Breakfast At
by Buster's Jezebel
Summary: Sheriff John Stilinski thought he was doing a good deed for his son Stiles when he invited Derek Hale and his family to dinner. He never anticipated that it would be a good deed for himself as well. Because Peter Hale? He's damn hot. But can a relationship bloom from some sexting? Will Peter let it or will he push John away? This work contains EXPLICIT slash.
1. Breakfast At Ch1

_A/N - Welcome to my AU version of Sheriff/Peter. My apologies to those readers who've been following my Hale Gang story arc and waiting very patiently for Sheriff and Peter's story to be told. If you haven't read **Forever And Everything** and **Damaged Goods** you don't need to, this is a stand alone story. However if you have, you'll recognise the timeline of this story, it starts with **Forever And Everything** but moves beyond **Damaged Goods**. _

_In this you will also meet Trevor, John's first male lover, and several chapters in you'll also meet a friend of Peter's Nathaniel, or Nate as everyone else calls him. After a fashion, you'll also meet Claudia. There are no first names on file for Jackson's parents so I've made up my own. What else? Oh yeah, explicit sex as usual when it happens, if this is your first time reading my work consider yourself well and truly warned. My guys don't hold back. And remember, this is AU._

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><p><em>Please note, I have no ownership of Teen Wolf characters or the actor's who bring them to life. I only thank their creator Jeff for spawning them in the first place. Because that means we get to twist them for our own and other's enjoyment.<em>

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><p>"Thank you so much for having us Sheriff, I had a fabulous time and I think speak for Derek and Cora when I say I'm sure they did too." Peter grins at Cora rolling her eyes at him.<p>

Derek was already out at the car, having taken his leave. Peter watched Stiles nod at them and head upstairs. Cora skipped down the path making Peter's eyebrows rise a little.

He turned back to the Sheriff. "John, call me John." John said as he looked Peter in the eyes.

Reaching for what Peter presumed to be his wallet on the hall table, John opened it, taking out a card. Then he grabbed a pen and wrote on the back of it. "My cell, feel free to call anytime."

"What if I have a nightmare in the middle of the night and I want a cuddle?" Peter asked with a grin as he accepted the card and shoved it into his front pocket. He left his hand there, rocking back on his heels.

Watching, he saw John's eyes skate down his body, focus on his groin and the flit back up to his face. He shrugged, "Then you call and I'll come cuddle you." Peter snorted as he backed out of the door.

"Thank you for lunch…John, it was superb. Derek and I will reciprocate very soon, you have my word." Biting his lip, just a little because he could, Peter grinned and turned to leave as well. He very nearly skipped down the steps just as Cora had.

In Derek's SUV he stays silent in the back seat as Cora had stolen shotgun. He hitched his hips and took out his phone. He stored John's contact details under John S. Then feeling playful he sent a text.

_'__you never said whether I could text you…John'_ Grinning to himself, Peter shoves his phone away and listens to Derek and Cora talk as they drive home.

He works the afternoon away, watches a movie with Cora before she goes out to visit and then he's left on his own. Deciding to do some cooking for the week, Peter leaves his phone on the counter and is perusing his pantry when it vibrates the text rhythm.

_'__yes Peter, you can text me'_ John has responded. Short, to the point. Much like he suspects the man himself to be.

And that gives him an idea. Typing quickly Peter texts back. _'thought I'd make some brioche for breakfast, can I drop some off for you and Stiles?'_ He sends and then gets out the ingredients for the pastry.

John's reply is instant_ 'I remember it's time-consuming, you don't need to go to that trouble + I'm pulling a double, I won't finish work until mid-morning earliest' _Hmm, Peter thought for a second then typed back again.

_'__I can drop some by the station for you if you want, I'm an early riser myself so it's not a problem'_ He hopes he's not pushing but isn't sure.

There is a pause and Peter shrugs, John was at work, it was likely he'd gotten caught up. An hour later as he's kneading the pastry his phone vibrates again. _'who am I to say no if you insist?'_ Now that was more like it.

_'__Excellent deduction, playing hard to get doesn't suit you Sheriff'_ He sends back without thinking. And it's only as he does that he realises what he's said and who he's said it to. Dammit, "My mouth is going to get me in real trouble one of these days." He mutters to himself as he returns to his pastry.

Steadfastly ignoring the resulting message, he finishes kneading and starts assembling the pastries. When he's got them assembled, he places damp tea towels over them and puts them in the fridge to cook fresh first thing in the morning.

Taking out a bottle of water, Peter cleans the kitchen and looks at the time before making himself a sandwich, lunch at the Stilinski's had been filling and unlike Derek he wasn't doing manual labour today so he didn't need a big dinner.

Making some for Derek and Cora when she got home, Peter retired to his bedroom for the night taking his phone with him. When he's settled on his bed he opens John's message_. 'I'm not playing, I'm just hard' _Peter shot up in bed. "Holy. Fucking. Shit." He said to himself.

How the hell did he respond to that? He looked at how long ago it was sent. Nearly an hour. Palming his cock, trying to settle his instinctive reaction down, Peter thought about what to compose back when his phone buzzed again.

_'__too much Peter?'_ John. Fuck.

_'__no, I was elbow deep in pastry'_ Peter sends back

_'__okay, Breakfast – or coffee anyway - at…'_ John names a coffee shop down the street from the Sheriff's station and asks Peter to meet him at the station so they can walk down together.

_'__I can do that, see you then, I'll bring brioche for you to have later'_ He sends back

'_it's a date'_ John replies

Smiling Peter plugs his phone in to charge after setting his alarm for an insanely early morning.

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"It's a date, just great Stilinski." John mutters to himself as he drops his phone on his desk. Nevertheless, it was something. Shaking his head and deciding to set some ground rules when he saw Peter again, John took care of his Sunday evening paperwork.

For the most part on a Sunday evening, Beacon Hills was an extremely quiet town and he took advantage of that to catch up on the never-ending paperwork that came with being Sheriff.

A couple of calls did result but for the most part, Sunday graveyard shift was slow. It gave John a chance to keep up with his deputies as he used the time to get around and talk to them, make sure they kept up with their own paperwork and that they were okay outside work as well.

That was why he rotated them all through the Sunday overnight shift. It allowed him to keep an eye on them in a subtle fashion.

He's just returning from a minor fender bender around five am when his phone pings a text._ 'I'm baking'_ nothing else, just that.

Debating, John chews his lip for several minutes before he sends back with a slight flush over his cheekbones_. 'naked?'_ When he presses send, he puts his head in his hands and just closes his eyes. He is too old for this flirting shit. He has a teenage son for God's sake, a teenage son he is sure has been out fucking Derek Hale most of the night now that he thinks about it.

His phone pings and he eyes it warily. Opening the text he's both relieved and disappointed by the answer._ 'no, but I could be'_ and it's accompanied by a body shot, no head, of Peter in a long-sleeved black Henley with a button or two open and faded blue jeans.

The tilt of the picture allows John to see the way the jeans mould to his frame, how they hug his hips, riding low enough he thinks Peter's crack would show if he bent over and he just happened to not be wearing a shirt.

And he can also see just how well the jeans cup his sex. Swallowing, with his flush well and truly covering him now, John texts back. _'not on the first date honey, but thank you for the offer' _He prays it's the right answer.

He leaves his phone open and sure enough another text message zings in_. 'oh you have standards? not sure I should meet you, I'm prone to be a little…forward' _A little forward, a little forward?

Fuck that shit. Two could play that game. _'straight past go then? You don't stop to collect your 200?'_ John can't help himself.

Since he'd seen Peter standing outside his front door yesterday afternoon, the man and his solid, muscled body had been on his mind. Just the thought of his neck and how it had flexed and moved when he'd spoken, laughed and swallowed was enough to have him moving uncomfortably in his seat.

Glad he didn't share his office with anyone like the deputies did in the bullpen, John adjusted himself in his pants and shoved his mobile aside.

When his phone pings a few minutes later, its with a photograph of his brioche baking in the oven. In the photo, John can see Peter's reflection in the oven door, crouched over and grinning. It makes him grin in return.

There is only the number '_6'_ sent with the text, meaning six am. Shaking his head and telling himself to behave, John settles in to finish as much as he can before he takes his breakfast break.

Peter is shown into his office a little after six am bearing two containers with the lids cracked. Fresh baked goodness wafts around him and John can tell the deputy who has escorted him in is salivating.

"Two containers?" He asks as a greeting as he stands and moves to the coat-stand.

"Morning." Peter says brightly. "And yes, I thought your deputies might like some?" He asked as he set one container down on John's desk. "An even dozen in here for you and Stiles, this one has fourteen. One for each of us now and the rest for your deputies." Peter hands the container to John and follows him back out of the room.

Stopping in the bullpen, John speaks. "Charlene, there are two for all deputies on duty, I'm leaving this with you because I know you're the honest one. I've got more in my office and I know exactly how many if anyone gets the idea to sneak one from there." He eyes all the deputies knowingly making Peter chuckle.

"Everyone this is Peter, Peter this is everyone." Peter shuddered internally as he nodded at the deputies in the room. He couldn't remember any of them from when he'd been arrested, but then he didn't remember John from then either. It had not been a good time in his life.

He is very certain that if it was anyone other than the John standing and eyeing his crew in a mock threatening manner he would not be braving the sheriff's office whatsoever.

Handing over the container with instructions to leave it in his office when it's empty, John nips out his and Peter's brioche, then opens the batwing door that separates the bullpen from the reception area and gestured Peter through before him. His warm hand settles briefly in the small of Peter's back shocking him a little.

No man had ever escorted him anywhere in a social manner before. It was unsettling.

Walking forward a little faster, Peter leaves John's touch behind.

Frowning slightly, John watched Peter jog down the steps. He wondered what was bothering him. Then he shook his head. He didn't know Peter well enough to know if something was bothering him.

But his hand tingled from where he'd touched Peter's warmth moments ago.

They eat their brioche and walk silently to the diner and settle in. John's stomach growls though and he orders a full breakfast with his coffee as does Peter though he has juice.

John watches him settle back in his seat, feels his legs tangle a little as they try to get comfortable across the narrow table. Both of them having long legs it takes some adjusting.

Finally, John shoves Peter's legs together and settles his own on either side. His inner thighs rub against Peter's knees and he's sure he sees Peter's eyes flare. He knows his own do.

"Narrow tables." Peter swallows as he speaks, his voice is husky.

"Yeah, never noticed before, but then I've never brought anyone here before." John returns.

"Maybe we should try breakfast at I-Hop next time?" Peter questioned. "Assuming there is a next time that is?" He went on raising an eyebrow at John.

Looking at him silently for several moments, John nodded. "I think I'd like there to be a next time Peter, what about you?"

Their food is delivered before Peter can answer, it gives him time to settle. Right now, with John's legs straddling his, Peter feels almost like he's fucking the man.

"I think I'd like there to be a next time as well." He tasted his eggs and then salted them. John watched him as he began to eat.

"So, Stiles and Derek, thoughts?" John asked as he worked his way through his food. Outside the early risers were beginning to move, traffic slowly thickening to the snarl it would be until around nine am. Thankfully his shift didn't finish until mid-morning, so he'd avoid it travelling home.

"If Stiles makes Derek happy, I'll love him forever. He's been through a lot." Peter says simply as he drinks his juice and motions for a refill.

"Ditto." Peter flashed a smile and John returned it with a quizzical air.

"A line from a movie I like." Peter clarified. John frowned and then his face cleared as he remembered the movie.

"You like romances then?" He queried Peter now.

"I'm partial to them yes. Life has shit on me enough, I don't need to see it when I sit down to be entertained as well."

"I buy that, it's a good philosophy actually. So do you have a favourite romance movie then?" John asked as he nodded when the waitress asked if he'd like a coffee refill as Peter received his new glass of juice.

"Maybe, maybe not." Peter returns as he sips more juice. "I don't think I know you well enough to give you that information Sheriff." A smile flits around his mouth as he puts his glass down and begins to eat again.

Grinning John finishes eating. "That sounded suspiciously like a flirting comment Peter." He sat back, stretching his arms out across the booth as he spoke, slid down a little in his seat, spread his legs more.

Watching Peter slowly finish eating, John knew he was delaying it, drawing out the anticipation of their conversation. Guy was definitely a tease. Lucky for him he liked being teased. Anticipation heightened the moment in Johns' opinion.

Meticulously cleaning his plate and pushing it to the side, Peter leaned back, his hands in his lap under the table.

Suddenly, a booted foot was resting delicately on his cock. Not pushing, just resting. Peter letting him know that he was there.

Smiling, John shifted his hips a little from side to side. The effect of that was his cock brushed up against Peter's foot a little harder.

It made him catch his breath as his cock shifted behind his uniform pants, thickened, hardened and made itself known.

"Are you getting hard John?" Peter asked slyly.

"You know I am and I can tell you are too." John answered him bluntly. He can tell by the slight widening of Peter's eyes that he hadn't expected him to answer so bluntly. "Expecting me to evade you Peter?" John asks him, slyly now.

Peter coughed. Yes he had expected John to evade his question. Peter wasn't used to people answering his blunt questions. Usually he used them to keep people offside and away from asking him personal questions.

If you asked enough forward questions, people got scared that if they asked you something in return they'd have to open up and when you display such forwardness? Well that's not a good thing. Most people like their privacy for all of how the world is these days.

But, "Yes. And yes, I am. It's been quite some time for me, what about you?" Peter asked him now, getting to the meat of the matter.

"It's been quite some time for me too. I'm not averse…" John trailed off, sipping his coffee as he thought of what he wanted to say. Peter let him work it out without interrupting. "To flirting a bit first, teasing, like now. Taking it slow physically. I'm not looking for a one-night stand, not my soul mate either, but…" John trailed off again and quirked an eyebrow at Peter questioningly.

Peter found himself drawing back, his booted foot moving away from John's crotch and his arms crossing defensively. All of his movements were automatic but John clocked them like the observer he was and he didn't push any further.

Standing up, he tossed some money down. "Think about it Hale, take your time, you've got my number." He stops long enough to wait for Peter to acknowledge him, which he did with a short nod.

John walks out of the diner and back down the street to finish his shift.

It's only when he's finished work and is at home having showered and gotten into what he uses for pyjamas. He's prepping dinner and about to head to bed when he looks over at Peter's brioche. With a soft sigh, he picks up a pastry and bites into it.

Just like the first one he'd eaten at the ass crack of dawn, it melted on his tongue. Very much like he was afraid the ice around his heart was already beginning to melt for one Peter Hale.

##########

On Tuesday he's having dinner with Stiles when he speaks out of the blue. "Are you okay if I date Peter? If he wants to I mean?" John asks Stiles.

"Why wouldn't I be? I assume you're man enough to keep civil if or when you break up. Like I hope I will be if Derek and I don't." There is a faint edge in his tone that makes John look at him.

"What happened?" He asked quietly as he stopped eating to look at Stiles.

"Oh nothing, I just…Derek assumed I was going to prom with someone else and I got pissy and then he just…unloaded all this emotional shit I had no idea about, I don't even think he knew he was talking out loud Dad." Stiles finishes his last sentence with a toss of his hands and John just saves his water-glass.

"So what are you going to do about it?" He asks forthrightly. "I take it you've checked the school curriculum so you know you can take him?"

"I did and why am I not surprised that you have too?" Stiles asks with a grin that John mirrors.

"Well, when I realised you preferred dick did you seriously think I was going to keep you at a school that would potentially discriminate against you in what should be the better years of your life?" He asked with a raised brow that Stiles now mimic's.

"Dad? The 'better' years of my life? I fucking sincerely hope not." He said with real rancor in his tone now.

"I know bud and I'm sorry, children and adolescents suck, big time." John hates that Stiles has been bullied and has never been popular.

It's not even that he's not been popular, it's more that he's been given trouble because of John and because he used to be skinny and uncoordinated. Though he's getting over his clumsiness where Claudia never had. And it had been one of her most endearing qualities.

"I'm used to it. And I kinda' like all the verbal sparring. I figure its like, preparing me for life you know?" Stiles finished eating and sat back in his chair.

"I do know and you'd be right. Going through high school like it's a war zone is preparing you to deal with real life. Others who go through on gilded wings will pay later down the track and that fall will be fucking nasty. I'd be lying if I said I feel sorry for them. No one messes with my boy and gets away with it." John said with relish.

Shaking his head, Stiles laughed as he stood and stretched. Wincing John stared at his flashing skin. "Shit, I don't need to see your hickey's and bruises Stiles." He muttered as he stood himself.

Laughing Stiles slapped John on the back as he started to clear the table. "Der is coming over for dinner tomorrow night, you're still on late shift?" He asked John as they cleaned up and did the dishes.

"Yeah, be home early morning, make sure Derek is gone by then yeah? I'm not comfortable yet with him staying over on a weeknight." John wiped the table down and wondered if he'd only ever see Peter again at the odd Stilinski/Hale lunch. He hoped not, but he wasn't going to push.

"Yeah okay, we can do that. Might be the last time he's ever here anyway." Stiles was muttering now as he left the kitchen.

"Why?" John asked as he followed, heading up to bed himself, he was pulling a double split shift tomorrow.

"Because he thinks I'm going to fuck around on him! I don't do that shit, well I wouldn't have, even if I hadn't been a fucking virgin with him." Stiles exclaimed in anger as he and John walked up the stairs after putting the downstairs lights off and locking up.

"Why would he think that?" John asked Stiles as he followed Stiles into his bedroom and sat down in his desk chair. He pushed away the small ache in his heart for the fact that Stiles was no longer a virgin, he had truly entered the adult world.

It had to happen sooner or later and Derek Hale was one of the most responsible, caring people John knew. He couldn't have asked for a better man for his son.

Tuning back in, John watched as Stiles wove a path around his room as he spoke, hands gesturing wildly. He reminded John so much of Claudia that his eyes blurred for a few seconds.

"Because everyone he's been with has done that to him apparently and I'll just be the next person in a long fucking line, it's a fucking piece of shit and I'm not fucking having it, fucking Derek Hale will accept that I'll be faithful to him or there won't be any fucking 'us'." He finished with air quotes around the word us as he heaved himself onto the bed.

"Nice to know you've got your mother's mouth bud." John said drily as he shook his head.

"Yeah, sorry." Stiles isn't sorry and John doesn't care either way.

"The older you get, the more you remind me of her and not physically. She had a mouth that would make a sailor blush when she got going." John said affectionately.

"I remember these people in the mall one time just looking shocked when she was trying to do something. I can't remember what." Stiles said as he rolled on his side and looked at John. John can see the hickey's Derek had left on him and the shadows under his eyes. Whatever it was, Stiles was bothered by Derek as he'd never been bothered by anyone, not even that crazy Lydia Martin.

John thinks that means something. Someone who would make his beautiful son lose sleep is worth something. John finds himself rooting for Derek and sincerely hopes that Stiles doesn't give up. He likes Derek and he knows that Derek is worth it.

"Yeah, the end wasn't pretty, but I wouldn't trade it for anything, all that bad shit was just another day she was in my, in our lives." John stands as Stiles nods thoughtfully. He knows he's gotten his point across.

Heading into his own bedroom, John showers and lays out his clothes for the next day. Taking up his phone from where it's charging on his bedside table he checks his messages. Nothing.

With a sigh he lies down and opens up his photographs. He doesn't have many, mainly using his phone for work and texting Stiles. But he's got one that he's saved.

Body shot, strong corded neck, wide shoulders, slimmer hips, erect nipples and well-worn jeans cupping a cock John dearly wanted to see naked and erect.

Rubbing a hand absently across his own chest, John tugged on his nipples. He wondered how sensitive Peter's were as he stared at the photo, he imagined tugging of that t-shirt and licking and sucking and hopefully biting Peter's nipples one day.

Undoing those skintight jeans to see if there was underwear or just hot firm skin underneath. Grazing his fingers over the cock clearly outlined and begging for attention.

Just as his hand is fisting his cock his phone rings. "Fuck." He exclaimed quietly.

"Stilinski." He answered quickly.

"Well, good evening Sheriff, am I interrupting something?" There is a hopeful note in Peter's voice and John's ire rises. He'd blocked his number or was calling from another number altogether.

"Yeah, my hand on my cock actually." He answered back baldly even as his fist began a slow and steady glide up and down his cock.

"Well, don't let me stop you, shall I call back?"

"Who said you were stopping me? I'm the Sheriff, I can multitask. How are you Peter?" John asks as he shoves the phone against his shoulder and reaches for his lube.

Like father like son, it was kept out and ready. It wasn't like he had company over anyway. He pumped some and then began to spread it over his cock as he settled back down.

Peter hasn't answered him and John checks to see if the call has been disconnected. It hasn't. Hmm, maybe someone was curious? No matter. Peter was still thinking so he could think, that didn't mean John had to stop.

"Is there something I can help you with?" John asked him this time as he began to stroke himself off. He bites back a hum of arousal as his hand warms the lube and the friction increases deliciously.

"Are you cut John?" Peter asked him suddenly.

"Why? Are you expressing interest in my cock Peter?" John puts the phone on speaker and sets it on his chest as his other hand flicks at his nipples before gliding down his chest to fondle his balls. His voice betrays nothing of what he's doing as he talks.

"If I was? Would you tell me if you're touching yourself?" Peter asks him now making John smile. There was the faintest bite in his voice. That alone told John he was getting to Peter.

"Maybe, you'd have to tell me what you're after first Hale, one night stand, fuck buddy or something more?" John asked as his hand continues to glide up and down his cock, a little tighter now and his other hand pushes down behind his balls, massages his perineum lightly before he hooks up a leg and without fanfare, pushes a finger inside himself.

"I was calling to ask if you were sure, about me? Trying with me? I have a record, I served time, it doesn't matter that my conviction was overturned, I still served time, that's what people will remember." Peter said to John eventually.

"You ever fish Peter?" John asks as he stretches his hole, pushes two fingers inside now. The pleasured moans want to escape but he won't let them, he's not sure Peter deserves to hear what he's doing.

"No, I never took to it, my brother loved it though. Why?"

"My father loved it, I never took to it either. But there was one part I loved. When I bated his hook, the worm just wriggled on the end of the hook until it was thrown in the water. And the fish Peter? When the fish were caught, they wiggled on the end of that hook doing such a merry dance. I always figured those that danced the most tasted better. And you know what that means to me?" John asked him now.

He can hear Peter's breathing over the phone. Either Peter was jerking off or John's words were doing something else to him. "No, what John?" Peter asked him quietly after a pause.

"It means that right now, you Peter Hale are wiggling like a fish on a hook and I'm letting you do it, because when you give in and come to me, and you will come to me, the reward will be just that much sweeter." As John spoke, he fisted himself sharply, tugging hard and his orgasm exploded out of him.

His come splashed down on his stomach, dribbling through his pubic hair and happy trail. Letting his leg down, John let that push his fingers out of himself slowly. Then he wiped them through his come as he waited for Peter to speak.

"So I'm a fucking fish?" Peter's words are sarcastic and John laughs.

"No baby, nothing fishy about you, it was a metaphor as you know." He doesn't say anything further. "Why did you call?" He asks again.

"To tell you I was still thinking. I didn't want you to think my answer was no when I still haven't decided." Peter said finally and John grinned from ear to ear.

"Thank you for the consideration." He yawns and his jaw cracks

"I'll let you go, get back to your masturbation." Peter says to him now. Still a little snarky which makes John's cock twitch. He was such a sucker for a nasty streak.

"Oh that's okay, I came while I was talking to you, just have to clean up." John says in a casual tone. He waits for the response, knowing there will be one.

Peter says nothing for some time, but John can hear him breathing erratically. Then, "You jerked off and came while I was just talking to you?"

"I did tell you I was the Sheriff and I could multitask, did I not?" John lets a little sarcasm colour his voice now.

"My apologies Sheriff, you did say that yes. I'll have to remember that for next time, if there is a fucking next time." Peter hangs up and John laughs long and loud.

Getting off the bed, he cleans himself up and brushes his teeth. When he's back in bed, the same sense of humour he passed onto his son rises and he sends a text message to Peter, promising it'll be his last one until Peter says yes to dating.

Because he will say yes, John knows this. When he'll say yes though is another matter.

_'__want to know what I was jerking off to?'_ He waits but there is no immediate beep and he drifts off to sleep waiting.

His phone vibrating in his hand a couple of hours later wakes him up_. 'yes'_ One word, and John imagines he can feel the sheer anger and irritation in that single word.

He feels like asking if Peter is sure, but decides to tease him in another way._ 'a picture' _He sends back, not expanding on a picture of what or who.

_'__fucker'_ Is all Peter sends back.

_'__it was a really sexy picture though, this cock in a pair of jeans, I'd unwrap it like a present to suck it right down and swallow every single drop of come'_ John looks at what he's typed and shakes his head. It's been so long since he's flirted with anyone, never mind another man. And certainly not via text. Mobile phones hadn't even been in daily use.

His relationship with Trevor feels like it was a lifetime ago. And it had been, a marriage and a child ago. That really was or had been a lifetime. Shaking his head John wondered vaguely if flirting via a text message even counted as flirting. He'd have to ask Stiles.

Grinning at the thought of that conversation he went to put the phone down when another text came through. _'and I'm the fucking tease?'_ Ha, Peter sounded pissy, John grinned.

_'__can one actually even tease via text?'_ John questioned him

_'__yes – YOU can!'_ Oh yeah, he was pissy.

_'__well should I apologise then? Maybe I should offer to buy you breakfast again? I-Hop this time? Though I liked spreading my legs for you' _John looks at the message for the longest time before he hits send.

He doesn't expect an immediate response and he doesn't get one as he drifts off to sleep again.


	2. Breakfast At Ch2

_A/N - For those of you who haven't read Forever And Everything and Damaged Goods you won't be aware that though this is AU, Kate Argent did in fact set a fire that killed most of the Hale's. From that fire Peter has physical scarring that is described in this chapter in some detail. I have played a little loose with this in that Peter doesn't wear a burn suit and the medicated moisturizer, I honestly have no idea wither it exists, it's my invention simply because it makes sense to me that he'd need to keep his skin elastic to stop it cracking and weeping etc. This IS fiction and AU so there is no accelerated healing._

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><p>On Wednesday evening, Cora is out with a girlfriend and Peter is at a loose end. He walks into the kitchen and looks around. Deciding to prep for breakfast he does so and cleans up after himself. He'd sent Derek off earlier with dessert for his dinner with Stiles.<p>

But, it wasn't enough. Walking back through the living areas, Peter stands at the windows of the apartment, it's a cool clear night, summer is beginning to get a stranglehold on the city, it's not cold anymore.

Sliding open the balcony door, Peter sits at the table and kicks his feet up onto another chair. He hitches up his hip, takes out is phone and opens it, looking at John's last text. He'd liked spreading his legs for Peter?

Fuck, that turned him on. Because it has been a very long time since Peter has fucked anyone other than a faceless person he's picked up somewhere. For the most part he's fucked in the dark shadows of a hotel room or an alleyway somewhere.

Yes, it relieved his tension, scratched his itch. But, Peter wanted what Derek's parents had had. What Derek himself had literally just found with Stiles.

But…did he deserve that chance? John Stilinski, despite all his sexting was not a one-night stand. He was not someone who screwed around on the side with someone. The man had been married, he had an adolescent son.

John deserved more than Peter. But, their connection was undeniable. Peter felt it in the very marrow of his bones. When he'd shaken John's hand at his house on Sunday, there had been an instant connection. And yes, that was cheesy. He didn't care.

There had been a connection, a connection felt on both ends. And John was a grown-ass man. If he felt he could professionally survive getting involved with crazy, murdering Peter Hale, then who the fuck was he to say no? John was an adult.

Okay, then. John wanted to play? Peter could play. And Peter played dirty. _'I liked you spreading your legs for me too Sheriff, I'll like it even better when I can spread your ass with my cock'_ smirking as he sent the message, Peter sincerely hoped he was interrupting something serious with John's work and that he derailed his train of thought.

Stroking his cock idly through his jeans, Peter stood and wandered back inside. Shutting his bedroom door behind him, he walked into his bathroom and began to strip down for a shower. After adjusting the water, he steps under it and washes himself down.

Hitching a towel around his hips when he's finished he cleans his teeth and then trims his goatee and moustache. Then he just stops and stares at himself in the mirror.

Scars, everywhere. And until now they hadn't bothered Peter. But he'd never cared enough about anyone in his life since the fire other than family to want to be attractive for them, to them.

Now though, he looked. His face was okay, but the burns started on his neck, melted off part of his ear lobe and then crawled down his shoulder and arm to the back of his hand. His flank and hip and some of his back and hit and miss down his leg to end at his ankle. His arm had partially melted into his body by the time they'd gotten him to the hospital.

His inner thigh had been saved, but the fire had travelled across his groin leaving him with a scarred sac and one testicle.

Stepping back, Peter opens his towel. His cock was okay, he couldn't believe it had come down to the side he dressed to in his pants as to why it hadn't been burned too. Even so, it had been a very near miss, as evidence by his single dangling ball.

His hair on his groin was half missing, replaced with burns there too. His ass had somehow mostly escaped being burnt, a small lick of fire had caused nothing but a welt that was now just a faded line of pink.

Closing his eyes, Peter realised he'd have to get naked with John, he wouldn't be able to avoid it if he said yes to developing whatever the fuck they had into something.

Sighing, Peter took up his lotion and began the twice daily task of keeping his burned skin elastic by applying the medicated moisturizer.

When he'd finished he hung his towel and wandered into his bedroom. Plugging in his phone to charge he sees he has a message.

_'__breakfast?'_ John asks of him without acknowledging his comment about Peter fucking him.

_'__where?'_ Peter sends back immediately.

_'__meet me at work, you can follow me and then head off when you're finished'_ John answers him after several minutes

_'__done'_ Peter answers as he takes a breath. Then he sends a second message _'my answer is yes'_

_'__I know'_ John returns. Nothing else, just those two words.

And Peter smiled as he went to bed after making sure his alarm was set.

##########

Taking a breath, Peter gets out of his SUV and walks up the steps to the Sheriff's station. Before he can open the door however, it opens and John walks out.

"Perfect timing." He says as Peter smiles.

"Thank you." Not sure how he should greet John, Peter doesn't make any move toward him, staying still as John walks the few steps toward him.

"Still okay to follow me?" John asks. He reaches out and touches Peter's forearm lightly as he speaks.

Swallowing, Peter nods and follows John back down the steps again.

It takes him several blocks to realise where John is taking him for breakfast. Grinning he pulls into the Stilinski driveway behind John's cruiser so Stiles' jeep can reverse out when he needs to head to school.

John is already inside and has left the door open for him. Taking off his jacket, Peter hangs it beside John's uniform jacket and then heads back to the kitchen.

"Can I help?" He asks quietly.

"No, I'm good with the food, but you can set the table in here for us. Just for two." John clarifies before Peter can ask.

"What are we having?" Peter asks as he does as John asked and then sits at the breakfast bar. Watching someone else cook was always a pleasure, just because he loved to cook didn't mean he couldn't appreciate being cooked for.

And John in the kitchen was sexy. Very sexy. Adjusting his cock quickly, Peter found himself squirming a little on the seat as he watched John cook.

"French toast and maple syrup bacon. With some fruit on the side." John said. "I cut it up last night, if you like it room temperature, you can take it out of the fridge."

Peter shook his head. "I'm fine with it cold, it'll be a nice contrast."

John nods but doesn't answer as Stiles clatters downstairs. He greets Peter warmly and busses his father on the cheek making Peter grin. He was glad they were an affectionate family, he and Derek and Cora were too.

Stiles takes a couple of homemade muffins after taking some med's and drinking a glass of juice and is out the door with a tossed goodbye to both of them. No snarky comments follow in his wake which surprises Peter.

When he comments on it, John shrugs. "Guess he's feeling good over he and Derek working shit out."

"I didn't see Derek last night. I'm glad they managed to get themselves sorted. Derek has liked Stiles ever since he came back to town." Peter thinks this is okay to share with John.

"Same with Stiles, I've been teasing him about his crush on Derek for a year now."

Snorting Peter shakes his head. "Guess I know where he gets his sense of humour from."

"Such as it is." John agrees candidly.

Shaking his head, Peter wonders if John doing and saying the unexpected is going to be an ongoing thing. He suspects it is, given how Stiles is and that Stiles is John's son. "Oh I don't know, I think you've got quite a sense of humour. But them I'm Crazy Peter Hale you know, so my opinion isn't worth much."

No bitterness coats Peter's tone, he calls himself crazy like he'd comment on the weather.

"If you're crazy I'm a prima ballerina." John says to him as he finishes mixing up the batter for the French toast.

"Oh, maple syrup in your batter? I'll have to remember that." Peter watches and begins to salivate as at the thought of eating what looks to be a spectacular breakfast. "And I'd pay money to see the good Sheriff Stilinski in a tutu by the way."

John tossed an eye roll at Peter over his shoulder making him oddly enough, think of Cora.

When they're sitting down and eating John speaks quietly between mouthfuls. "What decided you in my favour?"

Peter paused before he answered, eating several mouthfuls of food. "Be nice to fuck someone more than once." He finally says.

It's not the whole truth, but it's a version of it. The only piece he's willing to give at the moment.

"You got a preference when it comes to position Peter?" John asks him simply as he continues to eat.

"One that gets me off." Peter answers and follows with a question of his own. "Fucker or fuckee?" He's deliberately crude, letting John know without a doubt that he expects full on intercourse.

"Flexible." John answers followed by a question of his own again. "Spit or swallow?"

"Swallow, every time." Peter answers and follows up. "Rimming, giving or receiving?" He loves rimming in all forms.

"Both, makes me come." John answers readily. "Toys?" He asks now.

"Amenable." Peter says. He looks at John and John looks back. "Edging?" Peter asks him now. He sees John swallow.

"Very amenable, either way." He expands on his words so Peter knows that he's a fan of being edged or edging.

"Fuck." Peter said quietly.

"Yeah, one thing though." John says, Peter notices he's breathing heavily himself. "I haven't been with anyone beyond a night myself since Claudia died, I need to go slow, get my head around this, us."

Peter nodded. "I'm very okay with that, feel nervous myself. Plus, I've got one more thing, a deal breaker." He says as he finishes eating and pushes his plate aside.

"A deal breaker? Now I'm really fucking nervous." He watches as John stands and clears the table. Standing to help him, they tidy the kitchen and stand there, leaning on opposite counters staring at each other. "Okay, what's your deal breaker then?" John asks him finally.

"I need to show you." Peter says as he bends over and unlaces his boots. When he has them and his socks off, he stands and looks at John. "Could you turn around?" He wants John to see all of him at once, not his scarred skin in patches. He needs for John to see all of him at once to see the whole impact of Peter's skin.

John nodded and turned around, bracing his wide palms on the counter. Peter very nearly groaned at the sight of his rounded ass poking out. Fuck a duck. It looked like the Sheriff had a bubble butt.

Shaking his head, Peter stripped, including his underwear, leaving it all in a pile on the floor. Then he turns around himself.

"When you turn around, you'll see my back first, when I turn around you'll see the rest." He says over his shoulder to John. "Turn when you're ready John." He says as he watches John carefully.

Turning around, John looks over at Peter. His first thought is of how sexily beautiful the man was. He was built like a bear, strong neck and shoulders, not narrowing too much to his hips and then his tree trunk thighs and legs.

His second thought is of how much pain he must have suffered since the fire. Not looking into Peter's eyes, John steps forward, he leans down, kneels and looks his fill, "Can you be touched at all?" He asks as his hand hovers over Peter's scarred thigh.

"Yes, not too much feeling though, but yes. And I can't really tolerate the sun anymore."

"You've scars on your front too?" John asks him now as he looks up.

"Yes, are you ready to see them?" From the way Peter swallows, John knows they're worse.

"Always." He answers as he watches Peter watch him.

Peter turns around slowly. John see's the jagged flesh on his flank, the pulled skin. He looks down and sees scars covering Peter's foot.

When he trails back up, his eyes are caught on Peter's groin. Half of his pubic hair is missing, replaced by a mass of burned skin. His cock seems fine, the piercing hangs heavy from the tip of it.

But, John reaches out before he realises and his palm cups Peter's single testicle, the remaining sac is scarred, shriveled and misshapen. John doesn't care.

Because when he cups it, Peter's whole body jerks in response as he goes up onto his toes with a moan of pleasure as John tugs on it gently.

Watching, John sees Peter's cock fill and rise. He smiles as he looks up at Peter. "So, how careful will we need to be when we have sex Peter?"

Peter looks down at John kneeling at his feet, his hand still cupping his ball, his fingers massaging it lightly. Each touch is like a blast straight to his cock and it's standing now, waving excitedly at John. No loss of sensation on his sac, or at least not for John's touch. Peter pushed the significance of that thought away.

"Careful until you know what I can take." He says eventually as he tries not to move on John's hand. John is looking up at him, his eyes not looking down at his cock. Peter gives in. "Touch me please." He moans as John's fingers stroke him slightly firmer, his thumb brushing across the front of his testicle as it brushes the underside of his cock.

"I am touching you Peter." John says needlessly, he grins as he says it, knowing what Peter was asking, but making him work for it.

"My cock, John please." Peter is begging now, his calf muscles aching as he stands on the balls of his feet, arching into John's warm touch.

"Shall I make you come then?" John asks him softly, breath whispering across the head of Peter's cock, making it weep in excitement.

"Please." Peter begs again, almost sobbing when John grins fast and wicked and opens his mouth, sucking him down.

"Jesusfuckingchrist." Peter runs the words together as John just swallows all of him down. He wasn't small by any means, but John just…swallowed him.

"Fuckdeepthroating…" Peter trails off as John's cheeks hollow and there in the sunny, homey kitchen of the Stilinski household, Peter comes down his throat.

John's hand cups his testicle a little firmer, but still not too hard as he moans and swallows Peter's seed. That had been over way too soon. His own cock had only just finished hardening.

Feeling it push against his uniform pants, John ignores it as he sucks Peter dry, rolls his tongue and stabs it into Peter's now sensitive slit as he drags out the last dregs of his come.

Pulling off with an obscene plopping sound, John tongues Peter's piercing, tugging on it gently making Peter moan again as his cock twitched.

"John." Peter says on a whisper as John stands and wipes his chin.

"Yes Peter." John says as he steps back to where he'd been standing and watches Peter.

"I guess you're okay with my body then." Peter huffs out as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Scars don't bother me, you've got a sexy body, fit, healthy, sinful neck." John gives in and tells Peter the truth of how he feels about his body. "I look forward to fucking what I'm sure will be a very tight ass." He grins as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Ditto." Peter grins back as he picks up his underwear and steps into it before pulling on his jeans too.

"Andrew Christian?" John reads the underwear band on Peter's briefs. "Stiles mentioned him, says they're very colourful." He says as he walks forward. He prefers his Calvin's himself.

Peter can see his cock, a hard line against his uniform pants. "Yes, he has some fabulous designs, all of which you'll eventually see." He grins wickedly as John rolls his eyes. "Want me to take care of that Sheriff?" Peter reaches out and palms John's cock.

"Much as I'd love to say yes, I'll wait until we go there properly. Been living with my hand long enough, a little while longer won't matter." John says. He pushes into Peter's palm for a few seconds before he steps back, letting Peter finish dressing.

Peter nods, though his mouth makes a moue of disappointment making John chuckle.

Pulling his shirt over his head, Peter goes to tuck it in, but John beats him to it and does it for him making Peter raise an eyebrow. "What?" John looks at him. "Gets my hands on you doesn't it?" It was his turn to grin wickedly now.

"That it does Sheriff. That it does. So, lunch on Sunday?" John nods and reaches for the containers that Peter had left with him on Monday, passing them to Peter, he leads the way to the front of the house.

Opening it, John can't help palming Peter's butt as he walks past. Stopping, Peter pushes back. "Don't be going too slow now Sheriff." He whispers as he looks back over his shoulder at John before stepping onto the porch.

"Night Peter." John answers him.

Nodding, Peter turns and walks to his SUV. Putting the containers in, he gets in and starts his engine, reverses out and puts it into gear to move off. He looks back at the Stilinski house, John waves to him and shuts the door.

Peter drives off with a light heart. John hadn't turned away. There was hope for something to develop. And going slow after that blow job? Not going to be a problem, especially as he knew what was waiting for him.

##########

Letting himself flop down on his bed, John heaved a sigh. He was heading somewhere, where he didn't know, but somewhere. Rubbing a hand over his chest and down, he cupped his own sac.

Shuddering, John remembered Peter's scarred beauty. The man was flawed in more ways than one. But John found flaws beautiful. Stunning. Because flaws were unique, individual and riveting.

Like Claudia had been, like Stiles was. And now Peter. Rolling over on his side, John pictured cruising his hands and lips over that skin. Scarred, beautifully so. His cock rose, just as it had when he'd blown Peter.

Wanting to find a haven in Peter's warmth. Huffing at the open curtains he'd forgotten to close, John rolled over the other way. Putting his back to the light.

He'd appreciated Peter not laughing when he'd said goodnight. It was goodnight for him. Ignoring his hard on, John stared at the far wall. On it was a candid shot that he'd had blown up and framed for one of Claudia's last birthdays.

The three of them, laughing by a pool somewhere John couldn't remember. Beside it was a shot of Claudia on her own. One John had used countless times since her passing when he'd had his hand on his dick.

Sighing, John stood and dressed again. His shower had relaxed him a little, but his churning thoughts needed to be settled before he would sleep.

Driving to the edge of town, John drove through the gates of the cemetery. Parking on the road, he got out and locked the cruiser.

As he walked through the headstones, his thoughts dipped back in time. To when he'd laughed frequently, loved lots and been happy.

Settling on the edge of Claudia's grave, John sat on the cool marble. "Hey Claud's. Sorry it's been awhile. I know you don't mind, but I hate leaving you alone so much."

Breaking off, John stares into the distance, there is a funeral being held, just a small gathering. He watches for some time, letting the warmth of the sun lull him.

After a time, he feels a brush on his shoulder and smiles nostalgically. "Yeah, I know. But I like it here, it's peaceful." He smiles again as he imagines another, firmer brush on his shoulder. "Okay okay. Geez, you've gotten pushy."

Taking a breath, John brings his attention back to Claudia. Looking at her picture, forever encased behind glass, he feels a little piece of his heart crack. "I've met someone Claud's. A man. Not Trevor."

Pausing, John looks at her laughing face, a copy of the single shot of her he had on his bedroom wall. "I think I need to take down your picture from my bedroom wall. And saying that, I know I do, because I said my wall, not our wall."

Heaving a breath now, John rubbed harshly at his chest where his heart beat hard and fast. "You'd like him, he's crafty, dry and sarcastic. He and Stiles get on great and he's fucking gorgeous Claud's, fucking sexy and gorgeous and flawed. You'd fucking fight me for him."

Laughing a little now as he wipes his eyes, John feels the hand on his shoulder punch him solidly. He knew it was what Claudia would have done. And then she would have lit into him, sworn a blue streak and hugged him.

"Trevor was, I feel more in the little time I've known him than I felt for Trevor and that scares me. For now, I said to take it slow and he's happy. He's got a train car of baggage as well. Not to mention he's a he. I've got no fucking idea how the town would take it. Not that I have to worry about that for a while."

"Have I sworn enough for you now?" John asks drily as he pictures Claudia standing and swearing at him that what the town thinks doesn't matter, it's what he and Stiles think. She'd always said John could find another job. And he could, he just didn't want to. Yet.

"Okay, I'd better go, Stiles'll be by one day soon if he hasn't been already to tell you about Derek. No, I'm not talking, it's all on him. But you'd like him too, he's Peter's nephew. That's his name. Peter, Peter Hale."

Finishing off, John brushed his fingers against his lips and then placed them on Claudia's photo briefly. "Yeah yeah, I'll bring him by once I figure out what he is to me. Or what he's going to be." He mutters at the imagined push to meet, "Don't be freaking him out with touches and shit though yeah?"

Getting to his feet, John looks over, the funeral has finished, the grave is a bare dark hole waiting to be filled in.

When he's back at home, he takes down the pictures from his bedroom wall. Pulling out the picture studs, he hangs the family one in the hall, the single one of Claudia he puts in a drawer. He knew Claudia would approve.

When he hits the bed this time, he drops into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Waking several hours later, John wanders into the hall on his way to the bathroom. Stiles is staring at the family portrait now hanging in the hall.

Looking over John sees his eyes are damp, his lashes spikey with tears that are running down his face. "You did a good thing." He says to John as he throws himself into John's arms and hugs him tightly.

John hugs him back just as tightly. "Thanks bud, she's been telling me for ages but I just wasn't ready." He'd never hid his conversations with Claudia from Stiles.

Stiles had conversations with her himself.

"You have to take Peter to meet her, she'll love him."

"I will, when I'm, when _we're_ ready." John answers as he kisses the top of Stiles' messy head.


	3. Breakfast At Ch3

Peter greets John when he and Stiles arrive on the Sunday with a grin. He shivers slightly as he thinks of their texts to each other. They were a combination of sexual and general. Quite often, they'd carry on two conversations at once. Sexting and general 'how was your day?' type stuff.

Reading through the thread of an evening had become Peter's masturbation fodder. John could sext better than he'd ever anticipated, holding nothing back. Peter didn't know if it was long withheld urges or whether John was just open and blunt to the point of crudeness.

Whatever it was, he was enjoying someone being able to keep up with him.

They greet each other with a buss on the cheek. They've yet to touch their lips together. Peter is waiting for John, but not too long. Another week or so, if John hasn't kissed him properly then, he'll kiss John.

Cora though has already called them out on being handsy from when she'd had breakfast with them yesterday morning. It had been an accidental meeting; they'd been on their way to grocery shopping and had stopped to eat first.

John had been having breakfast so they'd joined him. Cora had basked in his attention, which Peter thought very telling. If he hadn't already decided to attempt some kind of relationship with John, the comfortable way Cora interacted with him may have ended up deciding him in John's favour.

"Isaac's coming over; I invited him for dessert Peter. Be gentle, he's not doing very well." Cora says as she begins to take out cutlery to set the table.

Unerringly finding the glasses, John raises a brow and Peter nods at the hi-balls. "That's fine ma cherie, I like your Isaac."

"He's not my Isaac, he's just Isaac, and he's nice, really nice." Peter knew this, and he knew there was more to him than nice. Truthfully, he liked Isaac a great deal.

"I know." He merely answers as he watches Cora leave the kitchen. Looking at John, he hesitates.

"What?" John asked him, seeing Peter wanted to tell him something.

"I think his father is abusing him. I don't know though. But I think so." Peter says softly, he raises his voice as Cora comes back in. "So Isaac's mother has passed away?" He questions Cora for John's benefit now.

"Yes, ages ago. And his older brother was killed a couple of years ago overseas in the Army I think." Cora answered as she sat on the stool beside where John was.

"I know them. His father works at the cemetery, maintenance, and what not. Isaac helps him." John says, "Does he still always have a bruise somewhere?" John questions Cora and she nods.

"Yes. He's just joined the lacrosse team, he's fast, but I don't think he likes it. I think he'd like cross country better."

Derek and Stiles come in as they're talking. John asks Stiles about Isaac but he doesn't know much about him other than he's quiet and apparently clumsy.

As they talk and laugh through lunch, Peter hopes that John can help Isaac in a way he is comfortable with. More, he hopes he'll accept help. Cora nods at him when the doorbell rings and she goes to answer it.

Peter nods at John in turn and he raises an eyebrow in understanding.

When Isaac comes in and sits down, quiet as a ghost, John's heart goes out to him. He is abused, he can tell. There is a fading yellow bruise over his cheekbone, but more than that, there are finger marks, still a livid red colour, clumsily hidden on Isaac's neck.

His fingernails are bitten to the quick. He is nervous and he guards his dessert as if it's going to be taken away from him at any moment.

When Derek and Stiles take their leave, John watches Peter take the reins.

"Isaac, you know that John, the Sheriff can help you with your father?" Peter asks gently. His heart is pounding so hard he feels like John, Isaac and Cora can hear it.

"Don't lie Isaac, let Peter and Sheriff Stilinski help you. Let me help you, I don't want to see you get hurt like that again." Cora pleads. "I don't know how you've survived Isaac, I don't. He's going to kill you one day, you know he is." She pleads some more as she moves and crouches beside Isaac's chair where he is still hunched over his dessert.

Peter's heart breaks as he sees silent tears tracking down Isaac's cheeks. He feels his own eyes well, but he blinks the tears back. There will be time later for them.

Standing slowly, knowing any fast movement could break the fragile bond of tentative acceptance that Isaac seemed to say yes to, Peter knelt on the other side of the chair.

"Isaac, you have such a long life ahead of you, you cannot give someone else the right to possibly take that life from you, to cheat you of it, to steal it from you. Even if that person is your father." Peter reaches slowly for Isaac and rests his palm on Isaac's forearm.

"John, Sheriff Stilinski will help you. You can stay here or somewhere else if you prefer. The Hale door will always be open to you Isaac. Always."

Feeling Isaac's forearm tense, Peter squeezed it gently and then stood up and backed away. "I'm going to clean up, Cora give me a hand." He said in a low voice.

Nodding, Cora began to clear the table in silence. Peter helped her and then John was alone with Isaac.

Standing slowly, John moved around and took Cora's place. He didn't look at Isaac, merely looked out the window at the afternoon. "Nice day, want to take a walk? There's a nice park nearby." He saw Isaac look at him out of the corner of his eye. "Plenty of people will be around this time of day." John said as he gave in and looked Isaac in his eyes.

He was an old soul, John saw immediately. Hurting, damaged, but with life still lurking, way back in his depths.

"Okay." Isaac stood and made to take up his bag.

"Leave it here, we won't be gone long." John says quietly.

Nodding, Isaac made for the front door. John looked over and nodded at Peter as he followed Isaac out. He would have to figure a way to thank Peter if this worked out. He had been trying to get Isaac out of his father's brutal hands for the past few years.

Until Peter Hale had managed to finagle Isaac to the lunch table at the same time as John, nothing had worked. If this worked, John would owe Peter for the rest of his life.

They take the lift down and wander down the street together. John is slightly surprised to realise in the few months since he'd last seen Isaac when he'd been admitted to hospital that Isaac had shot up in height. He was now taller than John himself was.

At the park, they wander along until the come to a bench in the shade that is not taken. John gestures to it and Isaac nods. It's close to the path so there are people around, but far enough away that Isaac won't feel threatened or that he is in danger.

"So how are things at home now Isaac?" John asks him quietly after they've sat there for several minutes. Isaac is leaning forward, head down and his forearms resting on his knees.

"Fine." His voice is low, nearly a whisper.

"Are they really fine? Because from the look of you they're not fine at all, I'd go so far as to say they're worse than ever." John says in the most even tone of voice he can manage. He wants nothing more than to grab Isaac and hold him protectively while he just obliterates Isaac's father from existence.

"I watched a movie once, _The Italian Job_; it had _Jason Statham_ in it." Isaac said unexpectedly.

"Re-make of an older one with _Michael Caine_ in it. They're both good." John segues with him, knowing there is a reason.

"Oh." A pause, then, "It had a line in it about fine being an acronym. Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. F.I.N.E. So, I'm fine." Isaac said.

"You've been using that line as a scream ever since haven't you Isaac?" John asks him quietly.

"Yeah, I have. I think he'll kill me before I'm eighteen and can leave Sheriff Stilinski." He whispers his last sentence and John's heart cracks in pain.

"No son, not anymore. Let's get you to the hospital, and then we'll figure out where you're going to be staying from now on until you turn eighteen and can decide for yourself." Standing, John holds out a hand. "All you have to do is take my hand Isaac, I'll hold it through every single step, but you have to take my hand before I can."

With the calmest face he can muster, John holds out his hand and waits for Isaac to decide. His pale, bruised face, thoughtful and furrowed brow as he decided. The way he bites his lip and then chews on the nails of one hand.

Then, on a slight indrawn breath, Isaac's other hand lifts and his fingers curl firmly around John's palm, before he latches on with a strength his skinny frame did not show.

"There's my boy." John says as he tugs him up. "I won't lie to you Isaac; it's going to be tough, lots of questions at the station, a physical at the hospital first." Stopping after a few steps, John looks at Isaac. "It's going to be brutal Is, but I'll be there with you, every step of the way. Would you like me to call Peter?" He asked as he kept hold of Isaac's hand and walked him out of the park and down the street.

Isaac didn't answer him until they were at John's cruiser and getting in. "No, but if you talk to him later, could you thank him for me please and have Cora bring my bag to school?" Isaac said on a rushing breath.

"Of course." John answered him.

##########

Brutal does not begin to cover it.

For Isaac or for John. That evening he is sitting at home with a bottle of scotch and an empty glass in front of him. Cursing, John shoves it away and walks upstairs.

Picking up his phone, he thumbs through and presses call. "John? How did it go?"

"How the fuck does anything like that go?" John asked him tiredly. "Shit never gets any easier." He finishes up on a sigh as he walks back downstairs.

"You're at home?" Peter asks him quietly.

"Yeah, in for the night. Stiles is out fucking your nephew. Shit." John rubs a hand over his face. "Sorry." He says to Peter now. "You know I like Derek, I think he's good for my son."

"I know. Have you had dinner?" Peter asks him now.

"No, no food is the last thing on my mind; don't think I could keep anything down anyway." John opens the fridge and takes out the juice.

"Okay, well I have to do something, we'll talk soon." Peter hung up before John could say anything.

"What the fuck?" John looked at the phone and very nearly called Peter back. A thought occurred to him though. So he texted instead.

Going upstairs, he stripped and showered off his day, having the water as hot as he could stand it. Taking his time, he rinsed off and stepped out.

Drying off, he dressed in a pair of sweats, socks, and t-shirt with a jumper as well. It wasn't cold but he felt chilled to the bone.

Heading back downstairs, he inhales and scents something delicious. "Were you on your way before I texted?" He asked Peter as he came into the kitchen.

He watched Peter look up from his laptop and grin as he picked up and held out a beer. "I was looking in the fridge to see if I had anything suitable to bring over. Your request for beer made me decide to pick up a pizza along the way."

"San Miguel?" John looked at the label. "Fancy."

"No, not at all. It's a Philippino beer and not fancy, smooth, woody and perfect with carnivore pizza. Which I'm hoping your appetite will return for." Peter got up and opened the oven allowing the smell of the pizza keeping warm to waft around the kitchen in full.

"No vegie pizza then? Be still my beating heart." John said as he stroked a hand down Peter's back without thinking. "I think I might be able to stomach a slice."

Peter froze and looked over at John who looked back, hand now resting on the small of Peter's back. "How many slices?" Peter asked in the silence of the kitchen.

"One." John answered as he sat down. "And truly thank you Peter. For today, for now and for Isaac. Isaac says thank you too."

Reaching out, John clasped Peter's forearm as he put the pizza down in front of John. John saw Peter freeze and look down at him; his eyes were searching. "He's away from his father then?" Peter asked John finally after the silence lengthened.

"He is, for good I fucking swear it."

Peter sat, John still holding his forearm. Peter's other hand moved and rested on John's hand. "Where is he staying? Not in a foster home? He can stay with us." Peter is anxious, John can tell.

Letting go of his beer, his other hand moves to rest on Peter's thigh. "No, not at all. One of the nurses at the hospital when I took him there was a good friend of his mother's. She insisted he go with her. I'm going to do my best to help organise emancipation with the judge. Isaac will need a job, a permanent place to stay and I'm organising therapy. But he's strong Peter, very strong. He'll survive, more important I think once he gets his feet under him that he'll thrive."

Taking a breath, John's hand tightens briefly on Peter's thigh and then he releases it to pick up his beer again.

Eating companionably, John lets Peter clean-up for them and after he stays him with a hand on his shoulder. He sighs when strong fingers begin to knead his shoulders though his clothes, letting his head fall forward.

After a little while, Peter slows his hands. "Not that I don't want to get you naked for sexual purposes you understand, but if you'd take off your jumper and shirt I can do a better massage without the aim of getting you to offer your ass to me tonight." Peter leans down and John feels his lips brush the back of his neck softly.

"Uh…" He trails off, feeling his body flush hotly. "Fuck. Yeah, okay. But…" He trails off again. Then before Peter can say anything further, John reaches back and yanks his jumper and t-shirt off over his head.

Peter's soft gasp of shock is all he needs. "I was young." He says simply as he pillows his head on his folded arms with his clothing still in his hands. "And we were together."

"It's spectacular John, can I touch it?" Peter asks him quietly.

"Apart from the massage you're offering?" John looks back at Peter over his shoulder, raising a brow as he grins. "What's it worth?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Oh, I'll pay, when we get to orgasms, I'll pay a lot baby." Peter says in a soft coquettish voice making John's cock wake-up and his balls tighten.

"Touch away." John turns his head back around and feels himself flush again as soft lips with a hint of whiskers ghost over his shoulders from one side to the other.

"Do you have any lotion I can use, or dare I even hope you have oil?" Peter asks now as his hands stroke John's skin lightly, not massaging yet.

"Goanna oil, that will do, it's not a relaxing massage anyway." John says. He stands, "I'll get it." He walks upstairs and into the bathroom, grabbing the oil. Then he tosses his t-shirt and jumper onto his bed and after grabbing a couple of towels from the linen press, he goes back downstairs again.

Tossing the oil to Peter, he slides his chair around and sits with his arms folded across the back where he rests his head on them again. Listening as Peter uncaps the oil and sniffs it appreciatively, he moans when he feels warm palms rest on his shoulders.

Peter massages the oil in, digging his fingers into John's muscles, turning John into a puddle of aroused mush. "Do you use this as lube at all?" Peter asks him after several long minutes have passed. His voice is a little breathless.

"If I said yes?" John asked him hoarsely.

"I'd say you're a man after my own heart. I love a little burn, if you'll pardon the pun." Peter answers with a soft laugh as John laughs a little too.

"I'll pardon the pun alright and sometimes, when I need a little extra, yeah I've used it." John admits feeling himself flush again.

"Your skin blushes John, the most amazing lovely shade of red." Peter whispers in his ear before his tongue flicks John's lobe quickly and he moves away. John moves restlessly as he feels Peter's hands move over his back again.

This time though, they're not massaging, they're tracing his tattoo. "How long did it take to get done?" Peter is whispering in his ear still.

"About three months all up, I was young and thought myself invincible." John says to him making Peter smile in memory himself.

"Just the one artist who was also your lover?" He asks now and John nods. "It's incredible John, truly incredible. It's so intricate and well thought out. Stunning and detailed and just, dark and beautiful. It makes me feel both aroused and almost saddened at the same time. You have art on your back."

John turned in his seat and pulled Peter down into his lap, his legs straddling John's. John winds his arms around Peter's waist and Peter's wind around his shoulders and continues to stroke his inked skin and down his arms, all the while continuing to trace his tattoo.

"His name was Trevor; he was my first in every way. First crush, first kiss, first orgasm, first love, first man I fucked and the only man to fuck me, he inked me, vertebrae first, then top half on one side, top half on the other, then the arms and then the back and then lower." John says as he rubs his cheek on Peter's solid chest.

"Lower?" There is a slightly strangled tone in Peter's voice making John smile, just a little.

"Hmm." He answers in the affirmative but does not explain. Peter could discover the rest another day.

"Uh huh. Okay. The way he's done the vertebrae as exposed is incredibly shocking, yet it just fits." Peter says now, his fingers back to tracing each individual vertebrae down the back of John's own spine to where his jeans are. They push underneath a little but John pulls back.

"Not yet, it's not right, not tonight." He says quietly as he looks up at Peter's eyes.

Peter simply nods at him and they sit like that, erections brushing as they just hug. It is the first time since his wife died that John has just sat hugging someone other than his son. And as much as he loves his son, that he is hugging someone else, someone who has the potential to be in his life, sharing his bed makes him feel something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Hope.

When the clock strikes midnight though, John stirs. Peter stirs with him and stands, moving off his lap after a final stroke of his shoulders. "I look forward to laying you out naked and licking every inch of that ink. It's the second most beautiful one I've seen. Derek's being number one." Peter says as he pre-empts John's question.

"Ah, makes sense, I've seen some, on his arms mostly. I have a feeling he's going to be marking Stiles that way too, especially since he's already given him the eyebrow piercings." John sighed. "Not that I can say anything." He said somewhat morosely.

"Hey, it's not a bad thing, your son is an adult in the eyes of the law, but he'll always be your son. And he's not getting gang tattoos you know." Peter strokes a hand down John's face before he turns and packs up the things he'd brought with him.

Walking Peter to his front door, John looks at him under the light from the porch. "See you next Sunday for the meet?" He asks, not daring to hope Peter will ask to meet him sooner.

"Oh, I think we can manage sooner than that; don't you?" Peter asks as he leans forward. John leans too, but they stop as Stiles pulls into the driveway.

"Cockblocked by my own son." John sighs making Peter laugh.

"When we start fucking John?" He asks with a raised brow making John look at him. "Stiles won't be cockblocking me, not once. But I'll allow it now as you're wanting to take it slow." He grins engagingly making John huff in laughter as he leans down and busses a kiss on Peter's cheek.

Watching Peter get into his own SUV and reverse out, he saw the interior light flick on and Peter wave at him before he flicked it off and drove away, John waits for Stiles to gather his things and come inside as well. Closing and locking the door behind him, John looks at Stiles looking at him.

"No shirt Daddyo? Do I want to know?"

"Considering you smell of semen and I smell of goanna oil I think it's self-explanatory, don't you son?" John says with a grin making Stiles splutter at him.

"Did I end up cockblocking you then?" Stiles asked him as he threw his backpack on the couch and walked back to the kitchen.

"No." John answered. "I'm headed up to bed kiddo." John smiles as Stiles yells a goodnight and heads into the bathroom to clean his teeth. When he's finished, he turns his back and grabbing a hand mirror he looks at his tattoo.

Pushing his pants down below his buttocks so he can see the whole thing, he stares at it has he hasn't in years. It was a part of him, had been a part of him well before he'd met Claudia. Trevor had started inking it immediately after he'd completed his apprenticeship when John was still seventeen and finished it a few months later.

John looked at it now, remembering the sessions and what he and Trevor had done afterward. The ink, the blood, and the smell of it and them, their semen and sweat. It had filled the room until they'd not been able to do anything but breathe it all in every time they inhaled.

It started at his neck, vertebrae first, each one inked, and each inked vertebrae taking up two of John's actual vertebrae. Black lines and shaded grey, jagged in places as if injured, the vertebrae went all the way down to John's butt crack. Then his wings. Not feathered wings, or even the skin wings most inked dragon's had.

No, Trevor had been ambitious, was still ambitious from what John knew. Plus his awards didn't lie. They still called each other regularly as well as on their birthdays. In addition, Trevor sent Stiles a sizable cheque for his birthday every year. He was Stiles' godfather after all. His only god parent actually. Moreover, he visited each summer, just before school went back in. The three of them talking, laughing, and camping if John's work allowed it. He'd been doing that ever since Claudia had passed on.

But, these wings were scales. Dragon scales, Trevor had said. Each one even after all these years, almost glistened as if sunlight was striking it. Each scale slightly different. John had sat down each time and Trevor had free formed the tattoo, sketching more each time he'd sat to be inked. John had never even looked before Trevor had started inking his skin. That was the nature of their relationship, even to this day.

Looking now, he can see why Peter had been shocked. It was both exquisite and shockingly graphic work. His wings had seen battle; they were battered and bloody, torn, jagged and bleeding. Still, somehow they were majestically beautiful.

John loved them, had loved them from the moment Trevor had inked the first line of the vertebrae. As he had loved Trevor. Looking back now though, John was acknowledging that what he had felt for Trevor did not come close to what he was already feeling for Peter.

Sighing a little in sorrow, John put down the hand mirror and pulled his pants back up, covering the bottom of the tattoo. He opened the bathroom door, moved down the hall to his bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

##########

Over the next week, John is caught up with Isaac. Helping him connect to a therapist, settle in at Melissa's. Further questions and speaking to a lawyer for and with him. He very nearly grinds his teeth to a nub over Isaac's father's unrelenting opinionated self, wanting nothing more than to smash the truth out of the man.

He knows Peter is chafing at the bit as well. They manage a quick breakfast at John's usual haunt, this time Peter spreads his legs, but John is too harried to do more than grin at him.

On Saturday night, John stays up late making his potato salad and his devilled eggs that Stiles loves. They will be a surprise. He's looking forward to the track meet as much as he's looking forward to a long drive with Peter, Derek, and Cora.

It's almost like a family outing. Shaking his head over that errant thought, John heads up to bed with a smile on his face.

The next morning, he shuffles past Stiles on the way to the bathroom and they meet again downstairs. When they're out on the footpath waiting for the Hale's just talking, John realises he's feeling anticipation over seeing Peter again for an extended period of time.

He was looking forward to the company of all of them yes, but Peter in particular, just like Stiles was looking forward to Derek's company in particular.

Grinning to himself, he watched the SUV pull up and handed his cooler to Peter. He watched as Peter's gaze landed on his lips and decided that yes, it was time to kiss. Stepping forward, just as Peter did, John leaned a little and their lips grazed tentatively, pulling back, John watched Peter pull his bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it, tasting John himself.

With a slight groan, John moved forward again, just as Peter did and their lips locked again. This time John's tongue sought entrance, against Peter's lips and they opened obligingly. Stealing inside, John slid his tongue along Peter's.

Then, he felt metal and jerked back even as he felt Peter begin to smile as their lips parted. Drawing back, Peter's smile morphs into a full-blown grin. "Just that one and my cock." He wiggles his eyebrows at John who shakes his head ruefully and orders his own traitorous cock to settle down.

Now was not the time to order Peter to strip down so he could double-check what he'd said. Plus if he saw Peter's cock piercing again he'd only be taking it into his mouth. That was something the neighbours did not need to see so early on a Sunday morning.

Rousting Stiles and Derek, John watched them climb into the SUV together and settle down. Getting in the passenger side, his eyes widened as he felt his ass get warm. "You have seat warmers?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, can't have that lovely bubble butt getting cold now can we?" Peter whispered to him, laughing as he watched John squirm to get comfortable.

John shook his head as he settled into the drive. Peter was a competent driver and he didn't have a heavy foot, which John appreciated. They chatted idly as the miles passed, Derek and Stiles talked sporadically and Cora and Isaac who had ended up coming along as well, slept the entire way.

##########

Watching his son take off on his cross-country race, John cheered along with everyone. Then they all settled in for the wait. It was expected to be three to four hours. He watched Isaac carefully, he seemed a little better, still pale, and a little withdrawn but not ducking his head, and he stayed close to Peter and Cora, seeming a little leery of Derek.

John could understand that, he was an imposing figure, not overly tall, but his tattoo's and strong features combined with his stubble and seeming inability to smile at anyone other than Stiles, Peter and Cora, not to mention the buzzed hair, he was nothing but intimidating.

John saw beyond that though, and he hoped Isaac would come to in time as well. A chin dropping onto his shoulder startles him out of his musing. "Whatcha' doin' Sheriff?" Peter mock drawls at him, making him laugh a little.

"I'd be thinkin' Peter, that be all." He says, surprising himself by returning the mocking fake drawl.

Turning, John is caught by Peter's eyes, not the same shade as Derek's. Lighter flecks, darker iris, and his lashes are nowhere near as lush and full as Derek's. Though the man is plenty attractive, despite his scarring, "Tongue piercing was a surprise." He says quietly, speaking of their first kiss this morning that wasn't a quick brush of lips against a cheekbone as they said goodbye after their frequent breakfast dates. "One of these days I want to actually wake-up to have breakfast with you, not greet you somewhere and say goodbye in an hour or two. He says musingly as he looks at Peter.

"Oh, just say when and where." Peter says now, his gaze wandering over John's face. Flushed skin, unblinking eyes, strong nose. He was an actual true to life strawberry blonde. "I'm surprised you don't have freckles." Peter says as he leans in and his mouth brushes John's cheek before he stands leaving him cock to eye with John who rolls his eyes.

"Obvious much there Hale?" He questions him quietly as he stands himself. Peter just laughs.

"Let's walk John; I need to stretch my legs." Holding out a hand, Peter quirks his left brow teasingly. John knows what he's doing and John knows Peter knows he knows. He also knows he surprises the hell out of Peter by taking his hand and tugging on it so Peter falls into step beside him, still holding hands.

"It's a nice day for Stiles to be running." John mentioned casually as they walked among the people.

"It is indeed, it will be nice to go out to the house next weekend too, for you to see it as well. I have a feeling you're going to be spending a lot of time there once we move in." Peter returns. They wind their way through the people, toward the woods and where the restrooms are. There are also benches set outside, they sit down beside each other, Peter leaning back, legs stretched, and arms spread along the back of the bench.

John sits, leaning forward, elbows resting on his spread knees and fingers entwined with each other. He looks at the ground. "I've been enjoying our texts." He says after a while.

"Me too, my nightly jerk-off fodder." Peter returns and John laughs as he shakes his head.

"What the fuck am I going to do with you Hale?" He sighs the question as he leans back into Peter's arm, stretches his own legs, and folds his hands over his abdomen now.

"I'd say fuck is the operative word Sheriff, or do you prefer to bottom first?" Peter asks as his arm moves, holding John's shoulders now instead of resting along the back of the bench.

"Yeah?" John raises an eyebrow and glances at him. "Rock, paper, scissors." He says with a challenging glint in his eyes.

Peter frowns. "For what?"

"To top." John answers.

Snorting, Peter laughed loudly, his arm around John's shoulders jerking as he rubbed his stomach. "Okay." He says finally, when he's wiped his tears away. "It's a deal."

They wander back to the vehicle and then stand on the side to cheer Stiles on as he wins his race. On the way home when they stop to eat, John watches everyone integrate, Isaac blooming under Peter and Cora's encouragement. He thinks idly that Isaac would possibly be better living with Peter but wonders on how to suggest that without pissing off Melissa. He knew Peter would take him in a heartbeat, wanted to take him when Isaac had finally pressed charges against his father.

He watches as Derek and Stiles head on inside when Peter drops them off. He and Peter look at each other but don't kiss in front of everyone though everyone knows they're more or less seeing each other. Inside himself, John takes the bathroom first and showers, then heads downstairs as Stiles takes his place.

Derek is cleaning up the kitchen and John checks his usual 'no don't' and just begins to help him. After all, he had a feeling Derek was going to be around for a long time. "How about I make some sandwiches and you guys just have at them when you're hungry?" He asks Derek as he hears the shower shut off upstairs.

"Sounds good." Derek murmurs, as he looks upstairs too.

"Go." John jerks his chin. "No fucking while I'm under the same roof. I'm not that comfortable yet." He muttered as Derek's ears went red. "Go on boy, go." He said to Derek in a gentler tone of voice. "I need to head up and sleep myself before I start work anyway."

Nodding, Derek turned but then stopped. "I'm not going anywhere Sheriff. Stiles is it." He says baldly as John stares at him.

"I know kid, you're it for him too." He finally says. He is left blindsided by Derek's smile as it flashes across his face. The man truly was beautiful. Shaking it off, John followed him upstairs and studiously ignoring the sounds he heard from behind the bathroom door as the shower started back up again, he closed his bedroom door and shed his clothes before he fell on his bed with his phone.

Peter answered on the second ring. "Hey."

"Hey Peter, you alone?"

"I am. Do you have something dirty in mind Sheriff?" Peter asked him coyly.

"I do, make me come Peter so I can sleep." John asked him quietly.

A low hum answers him, followed by rustling. "Okay then, hang up, and answer when I call you back." Peter says after a few moments.

Obeying him, John strokes his cock and reaches for his lube. His phone rings and Peter's face flashes at him making him grin. When he'd put his photo on John didn't know, but it was something he was beginning to get used to.

The guy was devious and then some.

Sliding his thumb across the screen, he jerks to see Peter's face smiling at him. "What the hell?" He questioned as he looked at it, or Peter rather.

"Skype, I added the app to your phone, just go with it. You ready?" Peter asks him as his smile drops away. John nods. "Okay then, stroke your cock for me John, nice and slow, no coming until I say so." Peter raises an eyebrow and John heeds it by stroking his cock, slowly as Peter had ordered.

"That's it, move the phone, show me how you touch yourself." Peter's voice crooned to him as John closed his eyes, obeying again, he twisted the phone, moving it down his body, smiling just a little at Peter's approving hum. "Mm, who knew that the fine upstanding Sheriff Stilinski was hiding such a hard body under that wretched polyester uniform? And there it is. I really wish I were there, touching you John. Should I tell you how I'd touch you and make you come?" Peter stops talking and John swings the phone back up to see his face.

Nodding, he squeezes his cock a little harder making his breath rush out in a long whooshing sound. "No coming now." Peter said, not continuing until John nodded in acceptance again. "Good Sheriff, very good. Now, you're going to speed up that hand on your cock, but just a little. And hold yourself a little harder too. Pretend it's my hand John, my hand grasping you firmly, my hand hot on your skin, a little rough because I've got some calluses."

Peter pauses to look at John, his own hand is moving and John realises he's jerking off as well. "Show me." He moans as Peter's wicked grin flashes at him and he tilts his phone so John can see his hand fisting his cock, the ring bulging obscenely. It was gold today. "I like the gold, suits you better." He muttered as he felt his orgasm approaching. "Getting close." He says to Peter.

"No coming yet Sheriff or I'll have to punish you." There is a gleeful tone in Peter's voice and it calls to something deep inside John, something he hasn't let loose in too long. And as it strains against the reins he's kept it tightly leashed with, John moans long and low as he feels his cock harden further and pre-come drip down his fingers making his grasp all kinds of slippery.

"Please." He begs as he feels his balls draw up.

"Look at me." John forces his eyes open, looking into Peter's blazing azure ones as they grin at him ferally. "There you are, such a pretty boy." And with those words, the leash snaps and John's need to be taken is set free.

"Wish you were here to fuck me, need you to fuck me, make me yours, make me forget, take me over." He mutters as he fights against his instinctive urge to close his eyes as his orgasm draws closer.

"Oh I will be when you're ready. You'll fuck me and I'll fuck you, we'll make each other feel so good. My hand is on your cock right now John, jerking you hard and fast, my other hand is on your balls, cupping them, pinching the skin just a little, bruising you some so you'll look at them tomorrow and know it was me that drained you of come."

John moaned as he imagined those stinging pinches on his testes, he felt them draw up in anticipation of what Peter spoke about. Moaned again as Peter murmured an approving sound at the sounds he himself was making. "That's my boy, come for me now John, watch me and come, let me see those beautiful eyes baby." His need to be taken well and truly running free now, John was helpless to do anything but follow Peter's direction.

His eyes blind with his orgasm, he kept them open through sheer force of will, realising only later that Peter was coming as well as his own orgasm rolled through him, his imagined stinging testes emptying, his cock spurting fluid up over his abdomen.

Finally letting his eyes close, John let his breathing settle. After several minutes he cleared his throat and opened his eyes. Peter was sitting there quietly, looking at him intently. John stared at him; he was falling for Peter. He had no doubt now. Beyond that, Peter was more than a one-night stand; he had the potential to be so much more.

"Thank you seems inadequate, but…thank you." He said making Peter's grin flash.

"You can thank me by tasting yourself, since I'm not there to do it for you." His grin was gleeful now in anticipation and John shook his head as he truly came back to himself.

Turning the phone, he ran it over his abdomen, "What part?" He questioned off-camera.

"Run your palm through it all, smear it around so I can see and then lick it all off." Peter's words are husky. Keeping the phone on his groin, John rubbed his palm through his semen, stroked his cock a couple of times, and then brought it to his face along with turning the phone.

Looking Peter dead in the eye through the camera, he liked a broad strip of his own come off his hand before sucking his fingers into his mouth and cleaning himself off them too. Peter's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

"I can't wait until I'm the one doing that with your come John, don't make me wait too much longer." He said softly. A plea, not an order, John could tell by his tone.

"The Saturday after Stiles' spring formal?" He questioned quietly. It was time; he was ready.

"Deal, we can lunch at your place the next day." Peter returned. "Cook it together."

"Yes, I'd like that." John said to him softly. "Breakfast in the meantime though?" He asked of their usual assignations. They had been having breakfast at least a few times a week since they'd met. He didn't want that to change now they were looking to take their relationship to the next level.

"Absolutely, breakfast at…"


	4. Breakfast AtCh4

John looks around and nods. The place is gleaming. Not that it was untidy, but neither he nor Stiles was a great duster so there was usually a layer of dust around even if everything else was clean. Stiles and Derek had left a couple of hours ago; they'd be back in the morning with Cora and Isaac for lunch.

Turning, John walked upstairs. He paused at Claudia's picture and smiled before he touched a finger to his lips and then to the picture. His smiled morphed into a grin as he imagined a none too gentle push on his shoulder. "Yeah yeah, I'll bring him to meet you soon enough." He said in response to what he knew she'd be saying.

In the bedroom, he checked he had left everything out. Condoms, lube, citrus scented as Derek had said and plain too, just in case. Towels folded and new washers on the vanity in the bathroom. Nodding, John looked at the hose he'd attached in the shower and then shook his head.

It had been too long since he'd had to do this and he possibly didn't have to do it tonight, who knew if he was even going to bottom? Still, in case he did, it would be polite. At least until he and Peter got used to each other anyway.

After undressing, John stepped into the shower, picked up the hose and used it on himself. Once he had released everything, he flushed the toilet, and returned to the shower. Being extra careful of certain recently cleaned areas, he washed and dried off. Walking naked back into the bedroom, he dressed in the clothes he had set out on his bed. Back in the bathroom, he ran a comb through his hair and then took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"You are ready, you can and will do this. Stiles is okay with this, just as you are and you know Claudia is. You are _not_ being unfaithful." Nodding decisively, John switched off the light, left the bathroom, switched on the bedside light in the bedroom and the overhead light off. Then he switched the hall light off as well. Leaving the bedroom door open, he walked downstairs and unlocked the front door but left it closed.

Dark had just fallen so he switched on the outside light. Turning, he looked at the downstairs. Leaving off the lounge lights, he switched on the table light in the hall where he and Stiles left their keys. Then leaving everything else off, he walked to the kitchen. The dining room was dark and he left off the overhead light in the kitchen too, wanting ambiance.

Checking the roast, he went to the table and took up his lighter to light the squat, fat candles he'd purchased. They were black, going well with the ruby red placemats. The cutlery gleamed from the polish he'd given it as did the wine glasses.

Stepping back, John eyed everything. Romantic? Maybe a little. Feminine? Not at all thank god. He checked the roasting vegetables and satisfied put the water on to boil for the greens. Taking out the roast, he took it out of the pan to rest the meat as he put the pan on the stovetop to make the gravy.

Stirring it as he puts the greens on to steam, John hears his front door open followed by "Knock knock?"

"In the kitchen." He called back to Peter.

Footsteps come down the hall and John hears Peter enter the kitchen. "Oh this is lovely." He says, genuine surprise in his voice.

Grinning, John jerks a little when strong arms wind around his waist and stubble pushes through the fabric of the Henley he's wearing. "Need a hand with anything?" Peter asks as he rests his chin on John's shoulder.

"Nope, not until the greens are done, then you can take them off for me, I don't want this to get lumpy." He says as he continually stirs the gravy.

"I'll pour the wine too." Peter says as he presses a kiss to the side of John's neck making him shiver before stepping away. John watched out of the corner of his eye as Peter poured the wine into glasses on the table and then checked the greens. Deeming them done, he rinsed them in cold water to stop them cooking and keep the vibrant green shade. "Which bowl?" He asked as he gestured to the serving bowls John had set on the counter.

"That one." John pointed then dipped his finger into the gravy. "Perfect." He said as he gave it a final stir and then switched off the burners. He poured the gravy into the jug, straining it as he did so, then let Peter put it on the table as he took out the roasted vegetables and put them on a serving platter. Then he carved the roast and they sat down to eat.

"Spectacular John, truly spectacular." Peter says. "The lamb is so tender." He continues as he forks up a bite of it with some gravy after they've served themselves a bit of everything. Nodding, John continued to eat.

They speak casually, Peter asking him about Isaac but nothing John can't answer officially speaking. He was smart, he knew what he could and couldn't ask John. "You should tell him he's welcome to live with you." John said to him as they were finishing eating.

"But, he's not eighteen, he needs a legal guardian. It doesn't matter that my second trial found me not guilty, I still have a record." Peter said to him hesitantly.

"Maybe, but Isaac is seventeen. I'm helping him apply for emancipation. And if his father could be convinced to give up his parental rights, then it would be easier." John watched Peter frown.

"Let's clean up. I find myself wanting to see you naked." Peter said suddenly, in an obvious change of subject.

"Sounds like a plan." John murmured as he stood. They stacked and cleaned in comfortable silence and once the kitchen was done and the dishwasher cycling through a wash, John put away the wine glasses they'd washed and then stored the leftovers in the fridge. He looked at the mousse he'd made for dessert and decided to leave it for later. For after.

"Follow me." He said to Peter as he brushed past him, deliberately pushing up against that strong body as he did so, setting his arousal to simmering

"Don't mind if I do." Peter answered back as he stroked a hand down John's spine, walking closely behind him. They walked upstairs, Peter palming a butt cheek at the top, making John stop and turn to him.

Looking at each other for seconds, John smiled. "I haven't had sex with anyone in my house since my wife died." He said apropos of nothing.

Peter smiled. "Thank you for being comfortable enough to have me." He said as he stepped into John's space and brushed his whole body against him. "I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"Oh I know you'll make it worth my while." John said as he shoved his fingers into the waistband of Peter's low riding jeans, _those jeans_ and pulled him down the hall to his bedroom. Not bothering to shut the door, he pulled until his knees hit the back of the bed. "Still up for rock, paper, scissors?" He teased as he nosed along Peter's jugular making him exhale heavily.

"Oh, I think we can dispense with that. I'm really in the mood to be fucked." Peter says as he returns the favour and kisses languidly up the side of John's neck making him shiver at the soft lips and rasp of stubble. He had a sinking feeling he was going to have stubble rash at work tomorrow night.

"Well, if you're sure." He said as he gripped Peter's shirt in his hand and yanked it up and over his head in a quick move. Peter stood before him, barrel chest bare, his brown nipples erect making John want to lean down and nip at them. He compromised by brushing them with his thumbs, smiling when they hardened even more.

Peter's shirt is on the floor now and he toes out of his casual slides, John is already barefoot. He's proud his fingers don't fumble as they slide along Peter's waist and undo the button on his jeans. "These things should be criminal, I bet if you bent over I'd be seeing your ass crack, or at least your underwear." He says to Peter now.

And indeed his jeans were skintight, practically painted on, faded, worn in all the right spots, they cupped his sex perfectly. "That is if I'm wearing underwear." Peter teases John now as he nips at his neck and draws the neck of his shirt out so it's baring a shoulder as he continues to kiss and lick John's newly bared skin, a little harder as he knows that this skin won't be shown in public. He can mark this part of John, as he's needed to do since he'd first met the man.

John digs his fingers further into Peter's waistband and grins. "Well, you're wearing something baby, let's see what it is." He says as he brushes the back of his knuckles along Peter's zipper as his fingers slide it down slowly. Pushing both hands inside, John palms Peter's hips, sliding them over warm skin covered by stretchy cotton, he jerks when his fingers touch skin again. "What the…?" He questions feeling Peter's breath brush teasingly over his skin as he chuckled at him.

"Told you I wasn't necessarily wearing underwear." He teased again as he moved his own hands and pushed his jeans down only to be stopped by John.

"No, my job." John said as he stepped back making Peter frown in disappointment as he moved beyond his reach. Sliding around Peter, John pushed up against him, brushing his own hardening cock against the seam of Peter's jeans. Then, he pushed his fingers down Peter's flanks, taking the tight fabric with him until he'd pushed the clinging material down over the lovely swell of Peter's buttocks. "Fuck… Peter… Fucking sexy." John finally muttered when he found his voice. "Fucking criminal." He said now as he knelt and just stared at the view in front of him.

Peter was wearing a jockstrap. It framed his ass perfectly; offering it deliberately John was sure, up to him in an invitation there was no way in hell he could refuse. "Language Sheriff." Peter chided gently as he flexed his ass cheeks slightly. Just slightly enough that it might appear unintentional. Though John knew full well it was anything but.

He was being told in no uncertain terms that he was to fuck this ass tonight, he got that. And Peter was damn lucky it was an invitation he was more than happy to accept. But, the reddened skin on one cheek brought home to him that he needed to have some care, he couldn't treat Peter as rough as he and Trevor had been with each other at times. Not until they knew each other better as Peter had said when he'd blown him in the kitchen.

"Do I need to do anything for your skin?" He asked quietly as he leaned forward and rested his lips on the back strap of the jock, kissing and breathing on it as his hands pushed the sinful jeans down Peter's legs carefully, helping him step out of them.

"Show me your nails." Peter said quietly. John stood, gliding his palms up Peter's sides as he did so, brushing his nipples again and then presenting them to Peter. His nails were short, not chewed and he had no hangnails. "You're good, hangnails can be a real problem." Peter pressed on the nails and looked over his shoulder. "You file them, you don't just cut them." He made a statement and John nodded.

"Yeah, I have since I scratched Stiles when he was a baby, Claudia showed me how to use a file and I've been doing it ever since, toenails too." He said and Peter nodded.

"I'm grateful, you'd be surprised how sharp nails can be if they're cut and not filed." He said quietly.

"Okay then." John said as he knelt again and began to pay homage to the beauty of Peter's ass. It was delectable really. Pert, round, perky even. Lush, bitable.

It's only when a moaning yes reaches his ears that John realised he'd been speaking aloud. "I'm going to make a meal of your ass one day soon Peter. But not until we'd gotten rid of the edge we've been carrying around since we met. Or at least I have." John said and then amended.

"Oh you're not alone in that edge John I've been balancing on such a fine one since I met you." Peter said softly as he ground his ass back into John's face as he buried his nose in between Peter's cheeks and inhaled. "I'm clean for you, inside and out." Peter's soft words make him stop and stand.

It is surprising to see vulnerability in his eyes, unexpected even. It makes John pause. He hugs Peter to him, palms sliding carefully up his back, sliding over smooth and scarred skin, an arousing contrast actually.

Smiling, John cups Peter's face now, making him look directly into John's eyes. "I am too, since I wasn't sure if I'd be bottoming. I appreciate the thought Peter, believe me." John murmured and Peter gifted him with a smile.

They kiss softly and Peter finishes disrobing John. He strokes his hands over John's tattoo as he sees it in full in the low light of the room. "It's truly stunning John." He says as he looks at it and brushes his fingers over it making John shiver.

"I'm going to make a meal out of your tattoo, like you are with my ass." Peter says now as he steps back and hooks his fingers in his jockstrap.

"No, let me." John says as he steps forward. Ignoring his hesitancy over being older and naked in front of Peter's hard body, he kneels and slides the jockstrap down carefully, kissing Peter's cock softly as it's bared to him. Standing again, he reaches for the lube and tilts it at Peter with a grin. "I have it on good authority you're a fan of citrus scented lube."

Chuckling Peter nods. "I am indeed." John pumps the bottle and jerks his chin at Peter.

"Turn around and spread 'em Hale." He orders, pleased to see more arousal flare in Peter's eyes as he obeys, turning and moving to the wall where he presses his palms flat on it and pushes out his ass as he spreads his legs invitingly.

"Oh, am I going to be…frisked then Sheriff?" His tone is coy, teasing as he glances over his shoulder at John, pretending wide-eyed innocence.

"Frisked and examined to make sure you're not carrying concealed." John says as officially as he can with his cock hard and leaking now. No longer hesitant over his older body, he steps forward, deliberately letting his cock smear pre-come along Peter's thigh.

Pressing his palm to Peter's crack, John slides his slick middle finger in between the cheeks, pressing lightly on Peter's hole, before gliding away, down to his taint, where he plays for a while, pushing, scraping, giving Peter and external prostate massage, making him widen his stance.

"You, Sheriff Stilinski are a tease." He says after a while, voice breathless.

"I can be." John confirmed as he pumped more lube into his hand, this time smearing it all along Peter's crack, making a squishy mess. "More is more for your first time sorry." He says unrepentantly making Peter laugh lightly.

"Assuming you'll allow me to use your shower; I have no problem with being over-lubed." He says, leaning forward and dropping his head. "But I fucking need you in me John." No teasing now, his words, his very tone of voice is raw with need.

"Spread yourself for me then baby." John whispers in Peter's ear now as he presses his middle finger to Peter's hole but doesn't move.

Moaning, Peter rested his cheek on the wall and reached back, both hands on his buttocks. Grasping them, he pulled them apart urgently, spreading himself wantonly for John to take. "Oh, what a lovely sight, so pretty and pink for me." John says now as he presses his middle finger in.

Inexorably breaching Peter in the most intimate of places, he pushes in steadily. Not pausing, but not being rough, just steady possession of Peter's hole. "There you are." He says softly as he brushes Peter's prostate on the first push in making him jerk. Pulling out, John pushes in with two fingers, surprised at the ease with which he enters Peter. "Oh, you are naughty, stretching yourself for me and then wiping away the evidence." He says as he grins at the realisation.

"Maybe." Peter answers him, his voice a little breathless.

"Hmm, well then." John stretched his fingers making sure Peter was still good. Then he stepped back, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. "Let's see how stretched you are." He spread more lube around and then looked at Peter, watching him silently over his shoulder. "Keep yourself spread for me now."

Stepping back up, he guided his cock to Peter's hole until he was pressing his cockhead on Peter's shiny, wrinkled entrance. Then, John began to push, firmly moving forward as he pressed inside Peter's body for the first time. He felt muscles give way as Peter bore down to take him in with ease.

"You're so tight. I forgot." John muttered now as he bottomed out, his balls snug against Peter's ass cheeks. His own hands coming to rest on Peter's hips for a minute as they both adjusted to the new dimension in their relationship. They were having sex now. Fucking.

"Forgot what?" Peter asked as he wiggled his hips and braced his hands on the wall now, making John's eyes cross.

"Jesus! I forgot how tight a man's hole is." John finally managed as he trembled in pleasure at feeling Peter milk him. "Gonna make me embarrass myself by coming too soon if you keep that up baby." He says as he slaps Peter's cheek making him jump and clench on John's cock, which made them both moan.

"I rather think you need to hurry John. We can go slow another time." Peter murmurs brokenly, his breath heaving between each word making John smile.

"You're sure?" He asks, his own breath heaving as well. A clench on his cock along with a subtle shift of Peter's weight as he braces his legs and sets his shoulders is his only answer. Accepting it, John draws back and slams back into Peter's warm haven. He moans as it clenches down on him again. "Jesus." He exclaims.

His balls tighten as Peter does it again so he is withdrawing his cock through a tight, clinging heat that he doesn't want to leave. "Fucker." He mutters. A light, though breathless laugh is his only answer. Keeping one hand on Peter's hip, John snakes his other one around to Peter's turgid and dripping cock. His own hole clenches at the thought of taking the thickness he is holding into his own ass in the near future.

With that thought, the thought of being filled to the brim with Peter's cock splitting him, John's balls empty without any further warning, his whole body flushing in a red hue as he fills the condom. His hand jerks spasmodically on Peter's cock and he clenches down on John's like a vise, drawing out his orgasm as Peter's explodes over the wall.

"Holy…" Peter trailed off as his shoulders shook with release. John could feel his orgasm still rippling through his cock with aftershocks.

"Agreed." John answered him without clarifying what Peter was saying. He didn't need to. Leaning forward, he rested, relying on Peter's broad strength for a few minutes, Peter shouldering him easily. Eventually taking a deep breath, he stood and removed his hand from Peter's cock reluctantly, his other moving to the base of the condom so he could withdraw from Peter's welcoming body.

Gently pulling back, John slides out of Peter slowly, wanting nothing more than to stay inside his warmth. Smearing Peter's come over his hip as he pulls back, John takes off the condom and knots it before turning and walking unsteadily to the bathroom. "Won't be a sec." He says to Peter who is still facing the wall.

Leaving the bedroom door open as well as the bathroom, John runs the tap until the water is warm and then shoves a washer he'd set out under it, he's just about to shove his come-soaked hand under the water when he stops. Looking at it he bites his lip before raising it to his lips.

"Uh uh." The voice reprimands him gently from the doorway. "You want to taste, you taste from the source Sheriff." Glancing over, John looks at Peter leaning negligently in the doorway, watching him with a lazy and very self-satisfied smile.

Pursing his lips, John cocks an eyebrow. "Promise?" He asks with a grin.

"Oh I promise alright." Peter answers back promptly.

Nodding, John shoves both hands under the warm water and washes them clean before switching off the tap and wringing out the washer. Then he turns to Peter, and there in the doorway of the bathroom, he cleans him, gently wiping the washer over his abdomen and thighs and between his legs. Then he turns Peter gently and cleans between his buttocks as well.

Turning back to the basin, John switches on the tap again and wipes off his own cock, his skin not being particularly fond of latex. Even the ultra-hypoallergenic condoms didn't sit too well with him. But it was what it was.

Leaving the washer hanging on the side of the basin, John turns to Peter. He's staring at John with an inscrutable expression. John walks to him and stops as Peter continues to watch him. "You okay?" He asks finally when the silence drags on.

Peter finally nods and his insouciant grin returns. "Fancy round two?" He asks as he steps back.

"Sure, just give me a time out to take some oxygen." John says as he shoves Peter toward the bedroom. They settle together after wiping down the wall. John lays on his side, head pillowed on his hand as he watches Peter sit down somewhat reluctantly. And it suddenly drops into his mind. Peter needed reassurance.

"You brought clothes for tomorrow right?" Peter looked at him. "So you don't have to go home until after lunch?" John questions abruptly, though in a matter of fact tone. He finds his heart thundering suddenly at the thought that Peter would go home.

He wanted, needed for Peter to stay the night. Here in his bed, he wanted to spend the next week on sheets that smelled like Peter Hale.

"I did, they're downstairs." Peter answered softly as he sat further down on the bed, still looking at John.

"Good, I want you in my bed." John answered him, a little roughly now, his own uncertainty festering in the wake of Peter's.

A blink of fey eyes at him and then a grin splits Peter's face. "Well, alright then." He lies down beside John and pulls him close.

Despite John's topping him before, Peter very much snuggles John into his body, looping an arm around his shoulders as he pulls him close. John finds himself with his head on Peter's shoulder and an arm across his torso as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, feeling comfort that for the first time in years, he's going to wake up with someone he wants beside him and in his own bed.

##########

Peter strokes John's back as he drifts to sleep. His own eyes don't close for some time as he thinks over the night. When John turns on his back a little while later, Peter gets up silently and goes downstairs to grab his overnight bag that he'd left in the hallway. He checks the doors and switches off the lights as well.

Back upstairs he takes it to the bathroom and removes a new toothbrush. Cleaning his teeth, he leaves it sitting on the bench, grinning as he sees three in the holder already. Derek had one here apparently. Still though, he didn't want to impose. Whether he got to keep one here would be up to John in the morning.

Going back into the bedroom, he settles down on his side, he'd moisturized his skin before he'd come over tonight, so that was okay. John rolls back and spoons to him this time making Peter smile.

##########

Waking before John the next morning, Peter finds himself spooning John now. John's body is strong against his own and Peter feels his own cock snuggled firmly against John's ass, pushing on it instinctively he moans a little when John pushes back. They'd talked about it and both of them were versatile when it came to penetration.

Hopefully John wouldn't mind switching and switching soon. Peter could feel the welcome ache in his channel from last night, it had been a while since he'd been fucked and playing with his own toys just wasn't the same, no matter how hard and fast he might go at himself.

"Morning." John says to him groggily as he pushes and slides his arm back, fingers digging into Peter's hip as he thrusts back lazily.

"Morning Sheriff." Peter whispers in his ear as he kisses it and licks down his neck to his shoulder blade where he suckles on the inked skin.

"You want it?" John's voice is husky now as he strokes over Peter's hip and pushes back a little more urgently on Peter's hardened cock.

"Hmm, want what?" Peter asks him absently as he kisses back up to John's ear and sucks the lobe into his mouth before biting and tugging on it gently. No marks where the public will see, that he knows without being told. It was unfortunate; like Derek he liked to stake his claim with marks. Still though, Peter's thoughts trail off at John's next words.

"You want my ass?" He punctuates his question by thrusting back on Peter's cock with a snap of his hips and Peter jerks.

"Seriously?" He questions, his palm stilling John's movements until he answers him.

"Yes Peter, seriously. It's clean. We were supposed to play for who topped first remember?" John turned on his back as he asked the question and Peter found himself staring down at him.

"You did that for me?" Peter asked him as he threaded a hand through John's short strawberry hair. Like Stiles he flushed adorably and like Peter suspected Stiles did, the flush went all the way down his body.

"Yeah." John answered him.

"Then yes, I want inside what I'm sure is your delectable hole Sheriff Stilinski." Peter said as he reached for the lube on the bedside table. Kneeling up, Peter pumped it and watched as John spread his legs, hiking up his knees. A wince flashed across his face and Peter looked at him. "Not the good kind of stiff in the legs?" He asked with a smiling but not teasing grin.

"Nope, but I'll be okay."

Shaking his head, Peter watched him, seeing it was one leg, hip or knee that was bothering him. He grabbed John's leg and moved him gently so he was lying on his side, then he straightened the leg on the bottom and the more flexible leg, he bent up. "Hug it to your chest." He told John as he spread John's buttocks.

"Sir, yes sir." John grumbled at him, making Peter smile more.

"Oh I can be a Sir boy, he flicked his eyes up to John's mutinous ones. And with his hand not covered in lube, he smartly slapped John's ass. The crack settled in the room as John jumped, flushed and cursed. Raising an eyebrow, Peter slapped his cheek again with the same result. He pursed his lips and grinned harder as John stared at him, he could see that John's balls were drawn tight to his body and his cock was hard. "You like that, I can tell." Leaning down, Peter's lubed hand slid through John's crease teasingly. "Don't worry, it's our secret Sheriff."

Rubbing over John's rosette lightly, Peter doesn't press in, he just strokes it teasingly, letting John get comfortable with his touch. Leaning down, he kisses John's arm where it's wrapped around his knee, holding it up, close to his body and out of the way. Then he noses along John's ribcage, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses over his tattoo, laving the coloured skin lovingly.

When he nips it a little, he feels what he was waiting for, the push outward from John, his rosette presenting, asking for attention. And Peter obliged, sliding his fingers around the wrinkled entrance now in smaller and smaller circles until he finally pushed inside, slowly and steadily taking possession of John's ass. "God, you are something, all spread out, hot and wanton and needy for my cock up your ass. You want me to fuck you John?" Peter asked him baldly as he pushed his finger in all the way before pulling it out and pushing two straight back in.

"Oh yes, you want my cock, my fucking hard cock. It needs your ass John. Wants to rip you wide open so every time you sit down for the next week you think of me breaching you as no one has before. Of getting so far inside you and coming in you as no one has before, filling you up so you're leaking my come when we're sitting down at lunch today. So I just have to look at you and know you're squirming, feeling my come still in your ass."

Three fingers are in John's ass now, Peter twisting them, spreading them for his cock, he might not be overly long, but he knows he's thick and he doesn't want John to suffer when he fucks him for the first time in any way. For this reason, Peter reaches for the lube and squirts more lube directly onto John's spread skin before he pushes in four fingers. "There you go, fucking my fingers like you were born to it. That is such a pretty sight. Sheriff John Stilinski, fucking an ex-con's fingers, needing them up his ass hard and fast." Peter trails off as he watches raptly as John does indeed fuck his fingers, he can tell his middle finger is scraping across John's prostate and that John is getting off on it immensely.

Leaning a little, Peter can see John's cock is hard and leaking onto the bed. "You ready for me?" He questions quietly, breaking off his sex talk to ask. "John, are you ready to take me?" He asks again, stopping any movement of his fingers making John whine a protest.

"Yes Hale, I'm fucking ready for your cock, stop fucking teasing me!" John exclaims as his other hand takes his own cock in hand and begins to jerk it harshly. He breaks off with a yelp when Peter's lubed hand smacks his ass cheek again, several times in a row. "Fucking Jesus!" He yelled this time making Peter laugh.

"Be patient boy." Peter said as he rolled a condom down his cock and squirted more lube on it awkwardly with one hand. Then he pushes his four fingers into John one last time, before he withdraws them slowly and wipes them down John's thigh making him mutter at him. "Here you go Sheriff, one cock up your ass as ordered." His cock pushing inexorably into John's ass underlines his crude words. "Dear god, you're not exactly loose yourself." Peter said as he pushed into John's warmth.

It was a clinging warmth, at once both pushing and pulling almost. "Thanks." John answered him as he fisted his cock again. "Hurry, I'm not going to last, you teased me too much." He whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

"Teased myself too." Peter murmured as he felt his balls draw up, ready to erupt. "Shit." He said as he began to thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of John's wriggling ass. "Jerk your cock John, come for me and I'll lick it all up for you." He said now as his eyes burned, pale and feral into John's aroused stare.

A snort answers him as John obeys and begins to jerk his cock roughly. His thumb flicks the thin skin of the underside in a telling manner making Peter cock an eyebrow as he realised that John handled himself very very roughly. He wondered if it was because of his cock inside him or if he was like that all the time.

Feeling John flex and work his cock from the inside, Peter lets himself go, riding John's muscles as they clench down on his cock. "Oh yeah, gonna make me come good Sheriff." Peter smiles as John rolls his eyes at him and jerks himself quick. Peter's hands hold John's leg in place and he watches as John's now free hand begins to work his balls. Plays with them, pulling and tugging on them and pinching the skin lightly, then more firmly.

"Nice." He breathes. Before he can say anything else, John's muscles erupt on his cock, spasming as his orgasm rolls through him, taking Peter along for the ride. Swearing in pleasure, Peter's head falls back as he fills the condom, not John's ass as his sex talk had indicated. It was only talk. Though Peter could hope for more, he was nowhere ready to push for it. And he was pragmatic enough to realise that he and John may never get to that stage in their relationship.

Resting on his hands now, hunched over John, cock still snugly inside his heated ass, Peter gathered his breath. "You good?" He questioned quietly before moving. "Your leg or hip okay?" He continued.

"Yeah, just need to catch my breath, Jesus, I haven't been fucked in years." John said as he steadied his own breathing.

"Am I okay to move?" Peter pushed up off his hands, but didn't move his hips.

"Sure, but…slow?" John asked him, hesitating over the word slow, making Peter wonder if he'd had something else in mind.

"I can do that." Resting his hands on John's tucked up hip, Peter withdrew slowly as requested, He moved one hand to the base of his cock, holding onto the condom as he pulled out fully. When he'd done so, he moved back and stood up on the side of the bed, pulling the condom off altogether and knotting it.

"I could feel your piercing." John said to him unexpectedly, making Peter smile.

"In a good way I hope?" He asked John with a quirked brow.

"Definitely a good way. How long have you had it?" He asked as he sat up on the side of the bed before standing and stretching. Peter noticed he stretched the iffy leg carefully before he realised John had asked him a question.

"Uh, a few years. I let Derek practice on me. He's very good at what he does, tattoos are his first love though. Speaking of, he'd love yours if you're ever in the mood to show it off." Peter stretched himself as John walked out of the room.

"Maybe one day." Came floating back to him as he gathered his clothes from last night and folded them up. Then he took out today's and put them on the bed before he took them back off and made the bed, then put his clean clothes back on.

He picked up John's as he heard the toilet flush and water turn on. Then he wandered into the bathroom taking the condom with him to throw in the bin. John finished cleaning his teeth as he did so. "You want to shower first? I'll put the coffee on the, coffee maker is a bit temperamental." He says as he wipes his face on the towel.

"Sure, I can do that, I left my clothes out on your bed and put yours there from last night too." Peter turned on the shower and got in, closing the door behind him. "Nice that you've got a separate shower." He says casually as he adjusts the temperature.

"Well, with one bathroom for the three bedrooms, it makes sense to have at least a decent bathroom. Wish we had a separate toilet though." John wrinkled his nose as he said that making Peter laugh as he stepped under the tepid spray. Hot water and his scarred skin didn't go well.

"See you downstairs." John said as he walked out of the bathroom.

Not answering, Peter showered in silence. When he's finished, hoping he's used John's shampoo and not his sons, though they both use the same soap, he steps out and grabs up the towel John had left folded for him. When he's finished wiping himself down, he goes to pick up his toothbrush. Only it's not on the bench anymore.

Looking, he sees it resting with the other three in the cup. Grinning he plucks it out to clean his teeth.


	5. Breakfast At Ch5

John wakes to his alarm on Tuesday morning. Flicking it off, he stands and heads to the bathroom, he can tell Stiles has already used it. Showering and shaving, he cleans his teeth and runs a comb through his hair as he stares at the fourth toothbrush in the cup. Peter's toothbrush. He'd be at the hospital today with John which he appreciated.

They hadn't been together since Saturday night, well Sunday morning but John could still feel him. He'd felt Peter's cock like a phantom in his hole every time he'd jerked off since, his hole had spasmed, empty and wanton every time he'd come, wanting and needing Peter's cock inside, to fill him, breach and stretch him to his limits and beyond.

Feeling his hole clench now, John resolutely ignored it as he went downstairs. He grinned at Stiles telling Derek he loved him. He'd already known, but it was nice to know Stiles was comfortable enough to tell him that he'd said it to Derek.

They drive to the hospital and John waits with Stiles through all the last minute checks and paperwork, when he's taken away, he settles in to wait patiently.

##########

"John?" John looks up. It's Melissa McCall, Scott's mother. Well fuck, he hadn't thought of seeing her today. Peter was due any minute. At least she was someone who knew about his proclivities.

"Hey Mel, how are you?" He asks her as he stands and busses her cheek.

"I'm fine, how are you? Are you okay, is Stiles okay?" She questions quickly.

"I'm fine, today is Stiles' surgery, that's all." He looks at her and she pales.

"What surgery, what's wrong with him?" She grabs his forearm and holds on tightly.

"He's fine, he's just being circumcised, did he not tell you?" He asks her quietly as he draws her to the seats and pushes her down in the chair.

"Uh, no. No mention from him or Scott, not an inkling." She says in a hurt tone.

"Well, he's been caught up with his boyfriend, he's gone down hard and fast, well not fast, they'd been circling each other for over a year before they finally decided to go for it. I think Derek was wary because he thought Stiles was under eighteen. For which I'm grateful." John said. And he was. Not that he'd have stopped Stiles and Derek if Stiles had wanted to date Derek before he was eighteen.

"I keep forgetting he's eighteen." Melissa murmurs. She rests one hand on John's forearm and the other around his shoulder. "How are you going? He's being circumcised, why?" She asks.

"I'm fine, really good actually," John absently brushes a hand over his chest where his clothes are hiding a couple of hickeys from Saturday night. "And uh, well. He wants to be like me, and he said that with his ADHD and what not that he had enough medical issues without having issues with infection, he forgets to shower too often and is sick of having to clean fluff and shit from under his foreskin." John is blunt with Melissa, he knows she can take it. And after Claudia had died, she'd been the one to tell him to make sure Stiles bathed regularly, especially once he hit puberty. Sure urine was sterile, but semen wasn't, sweat wasn't. And Stiles was too fond of being dirty.

That had been a conversation he never wanted to have repeated. No one, absolutely no one needed to hear they weren't taking care of their child.

"I'm glad. I remember a couple of times he made comments when he was younger about not being circumcised. He wasn't 'like dad'." She says no more. But she sits with John for a bit and that is how Peter finds them.

He raises a brow at the pretty picture they make, dark and fair. He grins as he thinks of being in between them. "Down boy." Peter murmurs to himself. Stepping forward he touches John's other shoulder. "Hey, how's it going?" He asks as he sits down on John's other side.

He smiles widely as John reaches for his hand and twines their fingers together. "Good. Peter, this is Scott's mother Melissa, Mel this is Peter. Uh,' John pauses as he thinks of how to explain, "He's Stiles' boyfriend's uncle and my friend?" He sighs as he looks at Peter. "What the fuck are we? We haven't discussed that yet." He sounds plaintive.

Grinning Peter leans in and kisses his lips lightly before pulling away. He looks at the lovely Melissa. "That clear enough for now?" He asks politely.

Melissa grins. "More than, who tops?" She laughs as John flushes and Peter laughs too.

Though, that was way too much information to give out. And John had a reputation to uphold. "He does…for now." Peter answers her question and John groans. Loudly. Peter laughed again, sue him, he hadn't been able to help it, plus which, Melissa's familiarity with the question told him plainly she knew about John liking men already.

John covers his face with his hands and they both laugh at him now. "Fuck my life." He mutters. But he's also grateful. Grateful Melissa stopped to speak to him and grateful Peter was here too.

He stands as the doctor comes in. "Sheriff Stilinski?" He questions and John stands up.

"Yes, how is he, is he okay?" He asks the surgeon.

"He came through with flying colours. He's severely affected by the anesthetic however, his daily medication is the cause of that. He's going to need to be monitored for the next forty-eight hours, not the normal twenty-four." John nods.

Peter steps forward, "It's okay, we'll help." He says meaning he and Derek. John nods and reaches for Peter's waiting hand again, missing Melissa's smile.

"That's fine, someone will be out to take you to him in about half an hour and he'll be released to go home in around three to four. You'll be taking him home?" The doctor asks.

"Yes, myself or Derek or Peter Hale." John gives both Derek and Peter's names to be on the safe side. And just as he does that his emergency radio crackles from the chair where he'd left it.

"Sheriff, you there over?" A pause and then, "We've got a major MVA over on…." John picks up the radio as the deputy states there are fatalities.

"Bobby, I'm here, I'm on my way, ETA twenty minutes." He flicks off the radio. "Fuck, I won't be taking him home, it'll be his partner Derek Hale, or my partner, Peter Hale." He says without thinking. He winces when he sees surprise flash across Peter's face, not to mention the doctor's.

But he nods. "Certainly, I'll make a note that one or both will be picking Mr. Stilinski up." He turns away after commenting he'll make sure emergency is aware of the motor vehicle accident that the Sheriff is travelling to.

John looks at Peter, he grins. "We need to have a talk next time _partner_." He places emphasis on the word partner and John flushes.

"Sorry, it…" He trails off not knowing what the fuck to say. "Sorry." He apologises again. "Can you call Derek for me?"

Peter nods and leans in, bussing John's cheek like John had bussed Melissa's. "Go, do your job. Don't worry about dinner, I'll make sure something stays warm for you." John nods and clasps Peter's hand briefly before he turns, nods at Melissa and walks away.

Looking at Melissa as she sits back down again Peter pulls out his phone and calls Derek. "Hello nephew, there's been a change in plans." He explains the situation and Derek says he's on his way. "Take a taxi, that way we don't have too many vehicles clogging up their driveway." Peter finishes. He hears Derek's acknowledgement as he hangs up.

Moving back to the seats he sits down beside the lovely Melissa. "You're Scott's mother?" She nods. "Fascinating, why haven't you been in John's pants before then?" Instead of the outrage he'd expected she just grins.

"I hear you make sinful cakes and what not?" Peter nods. "Make me something gooey and sweet, come over for a coffee one day and I'll tell you."

Peter shakes his head, stands as she does. "Oh I will, I like you." He says. Melissa laughs.

"I like you too Peter Hale, one of the reasons why is because from what I've seen so far, you're good for John. But," She leans up and busses his cheek now. "You break his heart and I'll break you." Peter steps back from her and sits down again.

"Acknowledged." He answers grimly, then his face morphs into a teasing grin. "Gooey and sweet? When do you want to eat me then?"

Melissa buries her face in her hands now and laughs for several seconds. "I have to get to work. You swing both ways don't you?" She asked in the next breath, Peter sees she's blushing as she asks.

"I do, so does John in case you were wondering, though something tells me from your question before that you already knew that."

Melissa nods and then shakes her head back and forth. "Batteries, I need batteries." She looks at him as he laughs loudly.

Shaking her head Melissa steps back. She looked down at him for a few moments and then with a firm nod she continued on to work.

Turning back she spoke loudly. "Give Stiles my best, tell him I won't tell Scott." Peter nods and settles in to wait.

##########

It's late that evening when John gets home. The smell of something simmering in the kitchen fills the house. A very female looking jacket is on his coat hook making his eyebrow crook in surprise. Shaking his head, he lifts it off, puts his own on it and then replaces the lighter jacket over his own heavy one so it doesn't get crushed.

He can hear what sounds like the old television in the guest room and someone in the kitchen but otherwise the house is silent. He knows at least Peter is here with Stiles from his Land Rover outside.

Putting his weapon away carefully, John moves on back to the kitchen. Sitting at his kitchen table with paperwork spread out and his laptop humming away is Peter. He's wearing reading glasses which makes John extremely glad because he wears them too.

What makes him feel even better, is the fact that there is a place set at the table, waiting for him to get home. Peter looks up as John sighs, letting his day slough off him. "Hey, that bad a day huh?" He asks as he gets up and moves to the stove where a bowl is waiting.

He lifts the lid on what John has been smelling since he opened the door and ladles a rich, dark stew into the bowl. Bringing it back to the table he sits down as he sets the bowl down and gestures to the fridge.

"Miserable, it's never nice having to do death notifications." He says quietly as he gets out the buttered bread and the jug of whatever cold liquid Peter has made up. He pours a glass for himself and drinks nearly half of it before coming up for air.

"I can imagine, it's not nice being on the receiving end either, as we both know." He says quietly as he begins to gather up his paperwork.

"No, it's not." John eats as Peter packs up the paperwork though he keeps the laptop on, checking something periodically before he types something and then grins and snorts before closing it down.

"So, Cora is staying in the guest room, Derek is with Stiles, he had a reaction to the anesthetic as I told you on the phone. He needs to be monitored for two days instead of the traditional one. I'll stay with him tomorrow, Derek has a client he can't reschedule, then we'll be out of your hair tomorrow night. Well, Cora and I anyway. I don't think Derek will be leaving Stiles alone anytime soon." Peter grinned widely as John just shook his head and groaned.

"It's okay, I'm used to it now. And really, who the hell am I to say my son can't have a satisfying relationship? He'll be out of school soon enough and a fully contributing member of society." John says as he shakes his head. "I'll learn to cope with it. You know, we should be really loud tonight and bug the crap out of them so they know what it feels like." He says suddenly, gleeful at the thought of disturbing their sleep. "Except I can't, Stiles is just out of surgery. Fuck."

Peter threw back his head and laughed loudly at John's pout of disappointment. He laughed until he cried, laughing more each time he looked at John and saw his face. It's only when John gives in and chuckles a little himself that he begins to wind down.

"So, I have a question. It's an odd one and I need for you to not ask me why I'm asking you. The reason I need for you not to ask me is for Isaac." Peter says this statement carefully. Watching John all the while as he continues to keep his eyes focused on his food. But Peter could swear a small smile flickered across his face so fast that if he hadn't been already been looking so damn hard he would never have seen it.

"Yeah? For Isaac?" John looked at him as he finished his dinner and pushed his bowl back to lean his elbows on the table.

"Yes." Peter wanted to say more, but knew he couldn't. John was the Sheriff. While what he was looking at doing wasn't illegal, it was a murky area. Especially for him. He watched as John looked at him and then nodded, slowly and deliberately.

"Okay then, let me make sure Cora is settled, do you want to check on Stiles as well?" John nodded again and Peter cleared away his dishes, pushing him away when he tried to help. "Go on, I know you want to shower too." He grinned at the swat on the ass John gave him as he left the room. He was fond of the odd swat or two. Giving or receiving.

Finishing in the kitchen, Peter jogged upstairs and checked Cora was settled in for the night, he heard the shower running and knocked to double check on Stiles and Derek as well. Then he went downstairs and boiled the kettle for a cup of tea for himself.

As it did so, he took out the tequila he'd brought over earlier along with two glasses. Whether John had any, he was shouting himself tonight. Pouring some for himself, he left it to pour the water into the teapot to let it steep just as John came in. Peter sees him pause at the tequila on the table.

"Yours?" He asked simply as he sat down after pouring another glass of the punch Peter had made.

"Yours now." Peter answered, watching as John shrugged and nodded. He was glad John would take things from him. Peter loved to give gifts.

"I want Isaac to get out from under his father, from what I understand his father is making that hard, would that be correct?" He hopes it's a vague enough question.

"Yes, that would be correct."

Nodding, Peter sat with the teapot and a cup and then picked up his tequila and tossed it back making John's eyebrows rise in shock. He grinned at him. "We Hales have hollow legs Sheriff, when we drink to excess that is, which isn't all that often actually." John just shook his head, a little bemused.

"Duly noted. Next question." He sipped his punch.

"Is his solicitor any good?" Watching, Peter saw John pull a face. Then he lifted his right hand and tilted it side to side, indicating so-so. "Okay, will his emancipation be accepted?"

"I can't answer that but…" John paused as he thought about what to say which Peter appreciated. It would be a vague answer but one he could work with hopefully. "I don't think Isaac will be disappointed by the outcome, _once_ the decision is formally made." He said finally. Okay, to Peter that meant the emancipation would likely be granted but was going to take quite a bit of time.

"What if his father changed his mind, gave up his parental rights?" This is Peter's most important question, what he's thinking of hinges on this. John looks at him without speaking and Peter realises he's been too specific. "Okay, hypothetically speaking, you have a teenager who has been removed from his only remaining parent's care, he's looking to be emancipated, but that parent, despite being in jail, won't give up his parental rights for whatever reason. What if they can be convinced to give them up formally?"

Watching John think about the rephrased question, Peter holds his breath, picking up his tea and sipping it to keep himself calm.

"Well, if the parent relinquishes their rights, it's easier sure. But, it would be even easier if they pled guilty, assuming they're formally up on charges of course." John says eventually as he looks at Peter steadily. "Otherwise the child would go into the foster system. And while I agree with it, it doesn't always work out well, especially if the child is already injured, whether physically or psychologically."

"Of course." Peter answers as his mind flits around various options and scenarios he has in mind. "Thank you for answering." He says finally as he finishes his tea and stands with the cup.

"I'll get them, why don't you go on up?" John says as he stands and takes the cup from Peter's hand.

"You're okay for me to sleep with you?"

"Unless you're not?" He asks Peter as he stands there, somewhat flummoxed, not expecting to sleep with John with Stiles, Derek and Cora under the one roof yet.

"No, I'm fine. I'll go clean my teeth, I've already showered." Peter walks upstairs and into the bathroom, He cleans his teeth and grins as he sees John has put the toothbrush Cora had brought over in the cup holder as well. He doubted she'd stay here frequently, but it was nice to see.

In the bedroom, he has stripped and is moisturising his skin again when John walks in. He stops and watches, then begins to undress himself. "How often do you have to do it?" He asks as he gestures to Peter's hands smoothing the cream into his skin to keep it elastic.

"Twice a day for the rest of my life, but I'm alive so it's a good deal." Peter answers as he smooth's the cream over his leg. He's standing with his leg on the chair as he does so, wearing nothing but his underwear, a pair of olive boxer briefs.

"Done your back yet?" John asks as he strips down to underwear.

"No."

"Want me to?"

"Yes." Peter answered as he nodded at the medicated cream. John pumped, then looked at Peter. "Whole back is six pumps." Peter says and John pumps accordingly.

Then, he rubs it into his palms to warm it and begins to glide them over Peter's skin. "Tell me if I'm using the wrong pressure."

"I will." Peter says as he finishes his leg and stays bent over it to let John work. He's still got to do his arm when John has finished. "That's fine, not too hard, you don't need to lather the cream, it takes longer to rub it in properly then." An affirmative sound comes from John as he continues to moisturise Peter's skin, in long caressing strokes. Strokes that are making Peter hard. "Are you deliberately trying to arouse me?" He asks baldly.

A huff of laughter ghosts along his back before John answers. "An unanticipated side effect. Claudia always said I had magic hands." He murmured as he finally finished rubbing the cream in. But he doesn't step back as Peter pumps more to moisturise his arm. He stands at Peter's back, big and hard, heat radiating off him, making Peter feel warm and cared for.

It's an almost alien feeling. But one he likes. Leaning back, he lets Johns' hands slide around his waist as he finishes moistursing his arm. He does the unburned one out of habit, liking to be symmetrical. Feeling John's hands slide over his chest, thumbs brushing his nipples, Peter lets his head fall back onto that strong shoulder.

"You going to make me come Sheriff? With your son and my nephew and niece rooms away?" Peter is teasing as he thinks John is. When his nipples are pinched firmly and his cock jerks and begins to fill he knows John isn't teasing. "John, I'm up for…uh." Peter trails off as John's hands push down under his underwear and one finger loops through his cock ring and tugs harder than he'd tugged on Peter's nipples.

"We're doing this Peter. I need it and so do you." John says to him as his other hand cups Peter's balls, pinching the sac lightly, not as hard as he'd pinched his own on Sunday morning though. "Let yourself go, put yourself in my hands, I'll take care of you."

Moaning a little, Peter does exactly that, raising his arms and twining his hands around John's neck. Anchoring himself there he lets John play with him, coax him to full hardness and toward an orgasm. His hands are warm, a little slick from the cream and they feel so good on Peter's cock.

"God, your wife was right, you have magic hands. You're going to make me come." Peter is shocked by the breathless tone of his voice. His hips begin to move of their own accord, pushing needfully into John's hand as he rides it toward coming. Small moans and whimpers erupt unknowingly from him as he tries to control John's movements. "John." Oh God, he'd whined. John, Sheriff John Stilinski had made him _whine_. At the thought, Peter whined again, a wordless, breathless sound that pushes him from the precipice of orgasm over the edge into eruption.

"Yeesss." Peter moaned again as he came all over John's hand as he continued to jerk him off and cup and tug on his balls, until they were empty. "John." He says. Just John's name, nothing more. He didn't need to say anymore.

John continues to hug him as he comes down from the high of his orgasm. Peter can feel John's cock pulsing against his ass as he comes himself, wetness slowly grows against his back as they both calm down and catch their breath. That had been unexpected. Lovely though, so very lovely. Peter wasn't going to admit it, but his knees were still weak.

"Shh, it's okay. I've got you." John says to him as he pulls him backward gently, toward the bed. Peter feels his soiled underwear be pulled down and he follows John's directions to step out of them and feels himself pushed gently back on the bed as John grabs some wipes that he'd set on the bedside table when he'd come in - and that was premeditation if he'd ever seen it - then wipes him clean. "Sleep Peter." A quiet, gentle kiss brushes over his forehead. "Thank you for caring for my son as if he were your own." John whispers as he pulls back from the bed.

Peter reaches for him, unable to help himself. "Stay." He says, feeling ridiculously fretful.

"I am, just going to clean myself up and put a load of washing on." John laughs quietly as does Peter. Laying back with a smiling sigh, Peter drifts off to sleep.

##########

John watches as Stiles hums as he gets into the cruiser. They're in the car and on the way home after seeing the doctor where Stiles had his stitches removed when he finally asks his son what he'd wanted to in the doctor's surgery.

"You're in a committed relationship? When were you going to tell me?" He watches Stiles frown at the question as if it wasn't what he was expecting.

"Uh, I thought that when I told you I'd told Derek I loved him that was kind of obvious?" He questions in a puzzled tone.

"Stiles, fuck. Is Derek your one?" John asks quietly. He knew before Stiles answered that he was. As soon as he'd asked the question the answer had been obvious.

"Yeah Dad, he is."

John nods. "You couldn't have found anyone better." He answers quietly.

Stiles smiles. "Thanks, haven't told him that though."

"Is Derek on board?" John has a feeling he will be but you never know.

"Well considering the first time we were together, before we were even together rather, he said he wanted forever, I think so." Stiles says.

"Good then, he is. I'm very happy for both of you." John sighs. He thinks Stiles' mother would be happy too, but sad because she'd never understood the inherent and youthful ease with which Stilinski's found their mate. She had been eighteen and John twenty and he'd fallen hard for her despite his seeing Trevor. Trevor whom his wife had actually had a crush on. But they'd worked it out. Claudia though, had hesitated over John and her feelings for him simply because she was so young. Pragmatic thy name was, John thought ruefully. He was thankful Stiles was a lot more certain in his mind and heart. He could admit privately to himself that once he'd recognised his own feelings for Claudia, her uncertainty had been agony until she had accepted them as a couple. And at the time his break-up with Trevor had been so fresh, their friendship wasn't comfortable enough for him to commiserate with John over Claudia.

"Stilinski's, we're monogamous creatures for the most part. And we usually manage to keep the ones we choose young. My granddad was lucky when his first wife, my grandmother died in that he found someone else. But I don't think it was the same."

"Then you and Peter aren't going to be anything long-term?" Stiles asks curiously. "I know you've hooked up and I know you like him, a lot."

"Honestly I don't know. Trevor subscribes to the notion that I had two mates and that I'd find my male mate one day." John winces wondering if that was too much for Stiles. He doesn't go on to mention that Trevor thinks a male mate is more up John's alley anyway. John hadn't thought about that discussion in years. He pulls himself back to the present when Stiles speaks.

"I buy that, it makes a lot of sense actually. So you and Peter may in fact be or get serious?" He returns to his original question, nodding thoughtfully.

"I don't know. We've not talked about that. At all. Just what we want out of right now. But…I did call him my partner in the hospital." John winced now as he thought of it. They'd never talked about that as he'd said they would.

"Yeah, what'd he say?" Stiles asks as he turns to look at John.

"Uh, we haven't mentioned it since."

"Dad! You can't keep him hanging like that, he deserves more. If you want light and easy that's fine or more that's fine too, but you freaking _tell_ him. That's just wrong. You raised me not to do that, you don't get to be one of those 'do as I say, not as I do' father's." Stiles is waving his arms around now and nearly smacks the rear view mirror in the process.

"Take it easy, I will. I just haven't had the chance yet."

With a snort Stiles calls him on his answer. "That's bullshit and you fucking know it. You talk to Peter, tonight, don't come home until you have." He steps down from his father's cruiser as he speaks and slams the door walking up the footpath without a further word.

John realises he's right. So he's got a double shift now to work out what if anything he wants from Peter Hale. He's horribly afraid that he wants forever with Peter as Stiles is getting with Derek. Because he's horribly afraid that Trevor was right, he does have a male mate and it's the man whose face he thinks of as soon as he wakes each morning.


	6. Breakfast At Ch6

Peter sits across from Isaac's solicitor. They talk generally as they wait for their coffee to be served. He had made the appointment in a public place, at a time that the coffee shop wasn't going to be busy. Once their coffees have been served, Peter takes a sip and sits back.

"I need for you to get me in to see Isaac's father. I can get him to relinquish his parental rights." He says no more, simply watches the solicitor.

"How?" The word is blunt, but the face is wary.

"It would be best if I don't answer that."

"I can't be a party to anything illegal." The answer comes quickly and is sure.

"I'm not asking you to, I'm asking you to use your authority as a solicitor to ensure I get a confidential visit to see his father. That is all." Peter takes another sip of his coffee and waits the solicitor out. He thinks he'll need to make two visits to Isaac's father, one in public, one…not so much so.

"Can you confirm you will definitely be able to have Isaac's father relinquish his rights?" Peter looked at the solicitor for a long time. As John had indicated, he too thought the solicitor was average. Which for Isaac wasn't good enough, not without help.

"I can, as the commercial says, it won't happen overnight, but it will happen." He leans forward and drops his card on the table along with money for their coffees and leaves the shop.

He has arrangements to make.

##########

Some days pass before the solicitor finally calls him with a date and time. Peter speaks to no one, not wanting any opinions. The one person he wanted to speak to, he couldn't. He and John were doing well. No definition in their relationship, but they were seeing each other regularly. Breakfast a few to several times a week seemed to be their mainstay and Peter had added in John and Stiles coming over for dinner. Stiles had noted he was on track to graduate early so was focusing heavily on his classes so Peter was contributing by having him to dinner so it was one less thing for him to worry about.

Walking into the sheriff's station for his appointment to see Isaac's father, he smiles and talks with the deputies on duty that he's gotten to know slightly over the past weeks. None of them indicate anything untoward in his visit or his relationship with John which either speaks toward the respect John has with his staff, or that they're all very incompetent. Not that he and John are obvious, but still.

Shaking his head musingly, Peter allows the wand to be run over his body, thankful he'd remembered to take out his penis piercing beforehand. He surrenders his mobile phone and his wallet and keys. He has no other jewellery and after opening his mouth to show his tongue piercing he is waved in.

It's not a large station, but a few cells are occupied. Being shown to a visitor's room, Peter sees no one else around so he looks and deliberately chooses a place where he can talk and his own facial expressions won't be seen. He twitches at having his back to the deputy on duty out of habit more than anything even though he knows he's not going to be attacked.

When Isaac's father is shown in, Peter doesn't get up to greet him. Nor does he speak until Mr. Lahey is sitting down and staring at him quizzically.

"I was expecting my lawyer." He rumbles, his deep voice sounding both self-important and self-assured.

"Oh I know. My name is Peter and I just wanted to tell you face-to-face that you need to formally relinquish your rights as Isaac's father. His solicitor has drawn up papers that they'll forward to your solicitor today for you to sign so Isaac can be free of you forever." He sits back and smiles like an idiot savant as Lahey just stares at him. Mentally counting, Peter is surprised he gets to one hundred before the expected laugh erupts.

Peter continues smiling as Lahey laughs for some minutes. It's only when he calms down that he seems to realise that Peter had not laughed, had not spoken. He did not look uncomfortable or put out in anyway by Lahey's laughter. And then, a little off the estimated target, he begins to speak.

"Why the hell would I do that? He's _my_ son. _Mine!_" Spittle flows across the table and lands on Peter's face as the last word was exclaimed loudly.

Carefully pulling out a handkerchief, Peter wiped the spit away, slow and steady, no sudden movements. Then he puts it away, just as slow and steady, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

"My apologies Mr. Lahey, I forgot to _formally_ introduce myself," He begins, knowing full well he'd not forgotten any such thing, it was all part of his plan. "My name is Peter Hale, I don't know if you remember me, but I was formally convicted some years ago for the murder of Kate Argent, do you remember that... What shall we call it?" He pauses for effect, pushing a finger against his lips in thought, performing for Lahey before he continues. "Incident, would be the most appropriate word for now I think. Do you remember that incident then Mr. Lahey?" He asks brightly, smiling like they're best friends.

He waits for Lahey to process his statement as expected. "Maybe, what does that have to do with me?"

Bingo. Peter's grin widens as he pictures Lahey dangling like a dying worm on a hook. Perfect question. "Oh, I'm so glad you asked. You know Isaac has advised the Sheriff of your abuse, _all_ your abuse? And that his statement has been backed up by medical examinations?" He stops again, allowing the protest that comes right on cue.

"You don't know what you're talking about. My son, _my_ son is lying, he hasn't been right in the head since his mother died and then he got even worse when his brother was killed. I've tried to get him help, but he won't let me. He's out all hours of the night, with god knows who, he's lying for attention."

Rolling his eyes obviously, Peter sits back with a sigh. He thinks about the little performance he'd planned and then decided to just cut to the chase, the man was making him feel dirty. More dirty than he'd felt after Kate and that was saying something.

"Look, Mr. Lahey. We both know you're lying. Isaac's medical examination will back that up. His testimony on the stand will have every single juror in tears, of that I can assure you. But, I don't want him to go through that. It will hurt him, perhaps irreparably. And that I won't allow. So," He breaks off, taking a deep breath before deciding, fuck it, just fuck it.

"You know this conversation isn't being recorded right?" He asks out of the blue with his crazy smile firmly in place. He watches the wariness slide across Lahey's face and his smile widens. "When Kate slaughtered my family, I went a little insane you know. The burns I suffered, the pain they caused, I sometimes think they warped my brain." Trailing off deliberately, Peter pushes up his sleeve, allowing his burned arm to show.

"When I was finally cognizant, all I could think off was making sure she paid. It overtook me, blinded me to everything, I had tunnel vision, one goal, one job shall we say." He stopped again, making sure Lahey was listening. "One object. _Make. Her. Pay._" He leaned back and flicked nonexistent fluff off his shirt before looking up and catching Lahey's eyes again. "And so I did."

"And yet you're out, talking to me." The man is trying for bravado, but Peter can almost smell his unease, not fear though, not yet.

"I am, I was found not guilty at my appeal so I was released. But I did time." He stopped again and smiled, amping up the crazy in it to make Lahey even more uneasy. And there is the beginning of the fear. He can almost smell it in the air. "Serious time." Leaning forward now as if he was going to impart a secret, Peter waited for Lahey to lean forward himself, almost against his will. "At _Pelican Bay_." He whispers this, as if it's a secret when it's a matter of public record. "And do you know where you'll be sent Lahey, when, not if you're convicted, but when?" Peter sat back now, looking rather bored as he asked the question.

"Minimum security." The answer is prompt and confident and oh Peter is looking forward to crushing that confidence.

"Oh no no no, who told you that fairy tale?" He laughed again and the fear was suddenly not just hinting, but fully noticeable in the air now. "Oh no, _Pelican Bay_ is where you'll be going Mr. Lahey, of that I can assure you. And I have friends there, friends who will make you very welcome. Even more welcome than child molesters are normally made. I promise, they'll see to you very promptly and they'll keep taking care of you." Leaning forward earnestly now, Peter dropped his act. "I _promise_, they'll get to you, no matter how secure you might think yourself in the child offender wing. I promise you Mr. Lahey, they will make you _very very…welcome_." Sitting back now, Peter looked at his nails and then stood. "Good day to you Mr. Lahey, I'll see you again soon I'm sure." He says as he steps back.

"What do you want?" The words are flat. No confidence in them anymore.

"For you to sign every paper your solicitor puts in front of you regarding Isaac. And for you to plead guilty and spare him the torture of a trial and having his private life made public in the town where he lives."

_"__I'm not guilty!"_ The words are yelled suddenly as Lahey rises and lunges for Peter. But he'd been expecting it and whether the deputy had been observing extra hard, or just waiting for the opportunity, he was there before Lahey could even get across the table, taking him down promptly. Peter was a little put out he hadn't had the chance to get a hit in himself. Still though, he nodded a thanks and left the room.

He wasn't surprised to see John leaning on the wall outside waiting for him. "Let's get out of here." He said simply as he gestured for Peter to walk out the back way that only Stiles or other staff used. Raising his eyebrows, Peter followed John out of the building. They end up in a small courtyard that is obviously used for the few deputies who smoke or for others to take breaks in.

Alone at present, Peter watches as John shuts the door behind him and then they walk, not to the table and chairs but to the bench set in the shade of the building. "So, hypothetically speaking, did your…visit go as planned?" He asked after Peter had been sitting with him for several minutes.

"I hope so." Peter is too drained to even try to pull off cheerful and insouciant.

After sitting in silent for a while John speaks. "How about I cook tonight? Why don't you all come over, say around sevenish? That'll give me time to get some stuff on the way home. I'll grill. It's a nice night for a barbeque and sitting outside with family and good conversation." No further questions regarding his visit to Isaac's father are asked.

"Um, that sounds good. Seven is fine." Peter says after a minute. He felt his shoulders relaxing at the thought of not having to bother about dinner, or to even think of what takeaway to get. And that John had called them family. They may not have DTR'd, Jesus he sounded like that television show he'd never admit to watching, defined the terms of their relationship, but they obviously had one.

"Great, I'll text Stiles and have him tell Cora and Isaac as well. Why don't you guys plan on staying over? If you want that is." John said next as he leaned back on the bench and rested his forearm on the back of the seat. His wrist rubbed Peter's shoulder, almost as if by accident.

But Peter feels that touch in his soul. It was John's way of saying her was there for Peter, that he wasn't alone. The best he could do in public at his own workplace that may or may not be homophobic.

"I'd appreciate that very much John." They sit for a while longer before Peter stirs. "I need to head home, I feel the need for a shower."

Nodding, John stood and stretched. "Good idea, take your time there. And Peter?"

Peter stood and looked over at him. "No making dessert, I'll take care of that too." John says with a small smile.

Grinning now, Peter nods back. "If you insist." He says as he steps toward the back door.

"I do. And Peter?" Peter stopped and turned around to look at John again. His tone of voice had been serious, very serious. "Just so you know, I meant what I said when I called you my partner at the hospital all those weeks ago. I hope you're okay with that?" He questioned as he came to stand in front of Peter.

Blinking, Peter looked up slightly at John, he was just a smidgeon taller than him. "I am very okay with that, exclusively so I hope?" He felt like a fool for questioning, but wanted to double check. It always paid to safer than sorry.

"I don't do any other way." John said now as he leaned forward and swiped the door open with his ID badge and holding it for Peter.

Stepping inside, Peter felt lighter, both physically and emotionally. They walked forward through to the offices and John walked him through the bullpen to the front desk. "See you tonight." He said as Peter pushed through to the reception area.

"You will, seven for me, I can't promise when for the rest of them though." John merely nodded and touched his index finger to his forehead in an abbreviated salute to say goodbye. Peter nodded and left as well.

##########

"Knock knock." Peter calls as he opens the door to John's place that evening.

"Kitchen." Floats back to them as he, Cora and Isaac step inside. Wandering down the hallway, Peter inhales as do Cora and Isaac.

"Smells good." Cora murmured with Isaac murmuring an agreement. And it did. Apples and spices scented the air as they entered the kitchen.

"Hey guys." Stiles greeted them as he put something that smelled of vanilla into the oven and John greeted everyone as well.

"What's for dessert?" Cora asked, getting straight to the point.

"Apple crumble and homemade custard." Stiles answered as John continued chopping salad ingredients.

"Can we do anything?" Peter asked now.

"Only set the table and then sit outside. Oh and take the punch." Stiles said as he pointed to where crockery and cutlery and a checked tablecloth waited. He went to the fridge and took out the punch bowl, then opened the freezer and took out the ice cubes and put them into the punch.

When everyone is outside, with the table set and the salads finished with, John throws the steaks on the grill. Six huge steaks, Derek would be along soon. Peter sits nearest him and half listens to Stiles, Cora and Isaac. His mind is flitting through something he has to work on.

Something he will have to do without it impacting on John in any way. A touch on his shoulder brings his attention back. "You okay?" It's a quieter question now, Peter knows exactly what John is asking.

"I will be. It just brought back ghosts."

"How long are you giving him to sign the papers?" John asks now, keeping his voice low so the other's don't hear.

"I figure a few weeks or so. We'll see." The court date isn't imminent. And Peter doesn't even begin to guess how John knows what Peter ordered Isaac's father to do.

"I wish I could help." John's words are vicious making Peter realise that though he carries the Sheriff's badge, what some people get away with under the letter of the law still impacts on him personally. That is a vast difference between John the man and John the sheriff.

"Me too." He murmurs as he hears the roar of Derek's motorcycle on the street outside.

As usual, their conversation flows, school, traffic, work, various people, it's at once random and familiar, comfortable and relaxing. Exactly what Peter needed tonight, with the addition of not presiding over it himself.

And yet, he wasn't a guest, none of them were. He looked forward to sleeping here, in John's home, in John's bed with family around them. Well, except for one. Peter kept looking at Isaac subtly throughout the night.

He was getting better, slowly but surely. But Peter was selfish, he'd grown very quickly to care for Isaac, he wanted him close by, all the time. Not the few nights a week and part of the weekend that he got him now when he visited Cora. He wanted Isaac in his home, under his roof, permanently. And from the small overtures he made, Peter knew Isaac felt the same.

What Isaac wanted, Peter would make sure he got. Yes, he'd fallen. Hard and fast. He loved Isaac like the son he'd never have. He wanted to be the father Isaac's own biological father should have been. Peter would find a way to make it happen.

"I want him under my roof." He murmurs to John some time later. The two of them are inside, stacking the dishwasher as the others enjoy the warm night air. Their laughter drifts through the open kitchen window making Peter smile.

"Then we'll get him there. He's attached to you, you're what he needs. He looks up to you." John winds his arms around Peter's waist and his chin rests on his shoulder as they watch their children. Not that they were really children, but it was the thought more than anything.

It's only when they're climbing into bed together later on that Peter realises John had stood behind him and he hadn't flinched. Smiling he settles down on his back as John switches off the light. They lie there together, shoulders touching. Listening to the night, Peter finally understands John's complaints about Derek and Stiles as their noises filter through.

"Holy shit." He breathes.

"Yeah. Want some earplugs?" John asks as he reaches over Peter to his bedside table.

"No, I want to drown them out, I know Cora has her headphones in, are you okay with that?" Peter asks as he sits up and pushes John back down on the bed. "I have a need to give you the world's best blow job tonight John Stilinski." Peter kissed John before he could answer, tongue twining lazily with John's as he wound his arms around John and leaned down over his body.

"I'm very okay with that Peter Hale." John answered him formally.

"Good, lie back and let me have at you then." Peter grinned down at John as he pushed back and knelt up, he moved to settle himself between John's legs and spread them with his own knees. Then, deliberately knowing how wanton he looked, he leaned over John slowly, sliding his skin over John's touching as much of him as he could in order to reach the lube.

Pulling back with it, Peter crooked an eyebrow at the look on John's face. "I'm onto you Hale." John said to him with a frown.

"Good, want you to be on me John." Peter said, deliberately turning John's words erotic. He watched as John flushed a little, but not too much, just a slight reddening of his face and down his neck to fade out quickly. Peter made a moue of disappointment. "I love the way you flush all over, sometimes I just want to keep you all flushed like that. Like a warmed ass." He murmured and saw the flush come back, spreading down John's body this time. "Oh you like that don't you John? Want me to warm your ass one day soon? Spank it until you jiggle in protest and just grind yourself on my thighs trying to come?" Peter asked as he pumped the bottle and let the viscous liquid run over his fingers.

Bending down, he looked up at John and winked making John roll his eyes. Then he opened his mouth and took John's semi-erect cock into the warm haven of his mouth at the same time he circled John's hole with his two lubed fingers.

Playing with John's hole, Peter sucked on his cock. Soft, warm skin covering the engorged organ made him moan in pleasure himself. John's hands ran through his hair before one settled softly on his scarred shoulder and the other fisted, pulling on the strands before just holding on for the ride. Rubbing his knuckles over John's hole now, Peter pressed on it a little. Not too much, just enough that John knew he was there.

Only when he felt John bear down with a moan of pleasure did Peter begin to push two fingers inside. He moved slowly, his mouth working John's cock all the while, tongue flicking along the underside, piercing brushing John's veins firmly, making him feel the difference between the smooth inanimate metal and the warm roughness of his tongue as he tortured more noise out of John.

Pulling off so he could see John's face, Peter pulled his fingers back slowly, smiling when John's hips followed him. "That's it babyy, fuck yourself for me. Work yourself on my fingers. You want another one?" The endearment's rolled off his tongue without pause, and that made him hesitate mentally.

For an infinite second, Peter paused as he watched John who watched him back even as he pushed down and clenched, pulling Peter's fingers inside him further with his grasping heat. Shaking his head, Peter continued, raising his voice a little. "Come on Sheriff, moan for us, give us a show, make them know how it is to be on the receiving end, fuck yourself now, beg for it. I know you want to."

Grinning, Peter stilled his fingers. John groaned a protest. Loudly. Peter could hear the sudden silence from across the hall and he laughed quietly. "That's it baby, you want me to suck you?" John nodded as that lovely flush on his face began to spread all the way down his body, culminating in his beautiful cock. Neither of them hesitated over the endearment this time.

It stood up now. Tall and proud, dripping obscenely in the low light of the room. "Oh now, that is an invitation I can't resist. But tell me first, use those words I know you love Sheriff." Peter twisted his fingers slightly and then pulled back quickly before shoving all four of his fingers inside John's molten hole now.

"Peter!" John gasped as he crooked his fingers before spreading them, grazing and then prodding John's prostate causing him to hitch his hips uncontrollably.

"Yes Sheriff?" Peter returned as he grinned madly and hunched down lower, supporting himself on his scarred arm.

"Fucking give me what you promised!" John exclaimed loudly now as he gave up trying to be subtle with his noise and moaned as he finished speaking.

"Oh? What did I promise now Sheriff?" Peter knew he was pushing it, knew full well John was a hair's breath away from just plunging up and pushing him down to fuck uncontrollably. And yes, he'd be okay with that too.

"The world's best blow job, fuck you!" John is nearly yelling now, incoherent with his need to orgasm.

Peter cocks his head as he hears the guest room door open and light feet patter past and down the stairs. He fondles John's balls as he listens, making sure Cora doesn't leave the house. When he hears the television faintly, he returns his focus to the flushed body laid out for his pleasure.

"Well, if I promised…" Peter leaned down and looked up, pinning John's pale gaze with his own as he opened his mouth and licked his lips. "I guess I should deliver." He whispered as he began to give the blow job of his life.

He worked with everything he had, his mouth swallowing John, his throat humming vibrations, his tongue working in its entirety and both his hands as well. One hand fondling John's sac as he rubbed his testicles against each other, warming them and the skin that housed them even as his other fingers pushed inside, stroking the velvet walls that incased them lovingly.

He felt the tensing of John's muscles, one by one as his orgasm drew closer. Peter's own cock was soaking wet as he dripped everywhere, high on the pleasure of giving to John. It was what he loved to do. Take people apart and put them back together, whole and stronger and a lot more relaxed. Looking up, he sees John, spread and wanton, lost in the feelings that Peter was causing.

Suddenly, his head snapped forward, even as Peter felt his balls tighten and begin to empty, his jade gaze found Peter's making Peter's own orgasm erupt before he knew where he was, his hole clenching on nothing but air as his cock spurted up onto his stomach making his come then splatter down on his thighs as he moaned on John's cock, swallowing his own release, down to the very last drop.

Continuing to mouth John, Peter stopped pressing on his prostate, though he kept his fingers moving inside, loving the spasmodic clenches of John's internal muscles as his orgasm receded. His throat worked, swallowing repeatedly as he closed his eyes for just a second savouring the pleasure of John's sperm.

Opening them, he catches John's again as his hands move to Peter. One resting on his shoulder, the other wiping carefully over his cheek where his spit and some of John's own come has leaked. Stopping his movement, Peter holds John's cock in his mouth, resting it on this tongue as he watches John bring his fingers to his mouth and suck himself off.

Closing his eyes and moaning now, just a little, Peter feels his cock jerk in arousal again. Pulling off, he sat up slowly, letting go of John's balls as he pulled his fingers free with great care. When they pop free, he massages John's entrance, helping his muscle move back into place before pulling away.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says as he flops across the bottom of the bed with a heaving sigh. "You're older than me and you still wring me out to dry." He muttered finally as his breath heaved. A snorting laugh is his only answer.

##########

The next morning they're having breakfast when Cora comes back down after packing her bag. She sits at the table with a harrumphing sound and John looks at her. She is flushed and not making eye contact with anyone.

Peter sighs and winks at John and he suddenly realises she'd heard him last night. Fuck. When Peter opens his mouth to chide her surliness, John shakes his head at him and he subsides with a frown.

Later, after Cora has left with Stiles for the day, John brushes his lips over Peter's cheek as he buckles his utility belt before heading to work. "Can I pick her up from school today?" He asks quietly.

Frowning at him, Peter speaks. "Why?"

"Because she's the dragon guarding you and I've just realised I never asked her permission." John says simply making Peter gape at him before his face flushed a dull red.

"What the fuck? John!" He exclaimed. "Do you think I'm some virginal maid?" He ducked his head in embarrassment making John grin.

"No but Peter, you and Derek are all Cora has. I need to let her know that that's not going to change. The only thing that's going to change is she has me now too. I need to let her know that she has someone else in her corner, not that she's losing you to me. Plus," He broke off to grin lightning fast, "She needs to be given the opportunity to threaten to snip off my balls if I hurt you."

"Oh for…" Peter shook his head and his flush returned tenfold making John snicker.

"Suck it up. I have to go." He gripped the back of Peter's head and dragged him in for a dirty, breath stealing kiss before letting to. "See you Sunday if not before?" He questioned as he opened his front door.

"Yes." Peter answered as he just stared after John.

They both smiled for the rest of the day.

##########

John picked Cora up from school as discussed. He was driving her home and she was watching him quietly. "I like your uncle." He said, letting her know up front he did like Peter.

"I know." Her words are equally quiet and she gives nothing away.

"I'd like to say I won't hurt him, except that would be a lie. I will say though, that I'll treat him right and do my best not to hurt him." He thought that was fair, anyone who said they wouldn't hurt someone was flat out stupid.

"He needs someone to love unconditionally." Cora says out of the blue, making John start.

"He has you and Derek." He says, knowing immediately he's made a blunder. Cora knew that, she wasn't talking about that type of love.

"You need someone to love that way again too." Cora slays him with that single sentence. John will gladly take every bit of teasing she doles out from here to eternity for that sentence showing affection if not yet love and approval of his fledgling relationship with her uncle.

"Claudia would have loved you." He murmured as he pulled into a visitors parking spot at Cora's place.

"My mum would have loved Stiles and you too." Cora returns. "You finished for the day?" She asked as she opened the door to the cruiser.

"I can be, why?" John asked as he picked up the radio before Cora could answer and signed off saying he'd be on his mobile if there was an emergency.

"Let's cook dinner for them again, I can assist you." Cora says as she smiles and gets out, slamming the door behind her.

"You really can't cook?" John says as he gets out and locks his cruiser. Why he's surprised he doesn't know. The Hales are nothing if not self-sufficient to the marrow of their bones. "I thought Peter and Derek were joking when they said you couldn't." He continued.

"Gran, Peter's mother tried to teach us all, but I had the distinction of being her only failure." Cora says as they walk inside the apartment building and across to the elevator. There is almost a hint of pride in her voice.

"Cora?" John says some time later as they're buried elbow deep in flour, making pasta. Music is blaring and lights are on all over the place and he's having the time of his life.

"Umm?" Cora answers as she beats eggs with a fork, her flour-coated hands splattering that and the eggs everywhere in her enthusiasm. John shakes his head over the clean-up he's going to have to do. He'd let her in the kitchen, it was his responsibility. But really, her efforts had him in stitches so it was a fair trade. And Cora was happy so it was an even better trade.

"Sorry for making so much noise last night." John says no more as he continues to knead before rolling the dough and putting it in the fridge.

"That's okay, I'm not one of those people who are like 'oh my parents are having sex, it's so gross' Cora puts on a high pitched voice and waves her hands around scattering flour even more making John snort a laugh. "Though, when I'm eighteen, I expect the same courtesy from every single one of you." She stares John down, making him realise that she may be sixteen physically but she was a lot older emotionally.

"Deal. And if you need help making the other's realise it, you let me know." He says promptly.

And like that, the matter is settled.


	7. Breakfast At Ch7

Peter knocked on the door and waited. It was a clouded, chilly day. When the door opened, Melissa McCall stared at him before she grinned and invited him in. When Isaac left during lunch earlier, Peter had decided that he wasn't going to wait to let him know he was wanted. That he wanted Isaac to live with him, he wanted to be Isaac's guardian. But first he had to get past this protector.

"Isaac left before dessert so I brought it to him. And…" He trailed off and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "It's gooey and sweet as you requested at the hospital." He teased as he lifted the container he had the baked cheesecake in.

"Oh, just what the doctor ordered, come on back." Melissa said as she closed the door behind him and then moved back through the house to the kitchen.

It was a homey place, Peter realised as he looked around. Larger than John's but a lot smaller than their place outside town had been, or would be. He amended to himself as he followed Melissa.

"Coffee?" Melissa asked as she lifted her own cup before refilling it.

"Please, milk and one sugar." Peter said as he put his container down. "Would you like a slice?" He asked as he opened the container.

Coming over to look at it, he smiled at the moaning sound Melissa made. "Please, a big one." She moved to the cupboard and got out a plate and then a knife to cut a slice and a fork for herself to eat. "One for yourself?"

"No, I had a slice at lunch and we have more at home." Peter answered as he sat down and sipped his coffee.

"Isaac is asleep, are you okay to wait?" Melissa asked as she sat down with her own coffee and took up her fork.

"If you're okay with it, I'd love to." Peter murmurs as he smiles at her new orgasmic moan of pleasure as she tasted his cheesecake with the raspberry coulis.

"Of course. He has a crush on you." She says as she forks up a second piece and eats it. Her deep brown eyes watch him closely, making him feel rather like a bug under a microscope.

Feeling himself flush slightly, Peter nevertheless answered her honestly. "I have a crush on him too, I wanted him to come and live with me, but you got in first at the hospital." He said quietly. With this woman he instinctively knew, honesty was the best policy.

"When I saw what his father had put him through, I wanted to flay the man alive. He was always a controlling freak, even with his wife, but he treated her and his sons well. Then anyway." Melissa said as she forked up more baked cheesecake. "I just want him to be happy, if it turns out that Isaac's happy is with you Peter, then that's fine with me. But you have to ask him and abide by his decision." Melissa said, both advice and warning all wrapped up in one. Oh, he _liked_ this woman.

"So, why no you and John then?" He asked bluntly in a very obvious change of subject.

"Because we have no chemistry. None at all." Melissa answered frankly making Peter laugh, delighted at her bluntness.

"I for one am very grateful for that fact." He said as he settled his butt back further in the chair, getting ready for a real gossip fest with the woman. "So tell me, now that John and I are seeing each other, how many eyes am I going to have to scratch out?"

Melissa laughed even as she choked on her cake, making Peter laugh in return. "Well," she says when she finally got herself under control. "Not too many, he made it pretty clear that he and Stiles weren't up for being claimed about three or so years after Claudia passed." She shrugged as she drank some coffee. "Things settled down after that." She smiled over at him. "Until you came along that is."

"And how did you know he swung both ways?" Peter asked now, he was curious having bet that few if anyone one else in town knew that fact.

"Well, to make a long story short. I got this," Melissa stood and pulled up her jumper and t-shirt, pushing down her sweatpants as she did to show an old, but still beautiful tattoo of yin and yang on her left hip, "At the same time he was getting his. I actually introduced Claudia to John and Trevor, when I took her in to get a tattoo of her own. She'd always wanted one." Melissa sat down and started eating again.

"God that must've been interesting." Peter mused as he thought of John and Claudia meeting. "From what I understand they were made for each other."

"They were, it was like you see in the movies. Claudia thought she had a crush on Trevor who is completely gay by the way, only to go and get her tattoo and meet his boyfriend when she was on the way out the door. I felt like I was intruding just being in the room. You should have seen the look on Trevor's face." She said, speaking softly now as she reminisced.

"How did he take it?" Peter asked now. John had never really mentioned Trevor.

"It was heartbreaking in that he let John go, probably before John even realised what he'd done. It was better anyway. John was never going to leave town and back then, Trevor was never going to be able to make a go of his studio here. He moved to San Francisco and has become quite a success in his line of work."

A bell rings in Peter's head, clanging louder as he puts names together. Could it be? He closes down his thought process for now as they hear Isaac coming down the stairs. Watching Isaac walk in, Melissa take her leave, and Peter wants nothing more than to hug him until he relaxes. But he doesn't.

They converse, confess and Isaac moves in with him.

Alone in his room that night after speaking to Isaac, getting him settled both physically and emotionally, washing all of his clothes and making a list of what he needs to buy him this week, Peter thinks of John and Trevor. He realises that John and Trevor were in a relationship though John hasn't mentioned it in detail. He also knows that it had to have been serious until John had met Claudia.

Shaking his head as he settles down after speaking to John, Peter decides to let it be. If John wants to tell him, he will. Derek might take it out of his hands anyway, he thinks as he closes his eyes on a smile. He was having company in the morning, so he needed his beauty sleep.

##########

Some weeks later, Peter is skulking in the shadow of the building next to the sheriff's station. He keeps his head lowered even as he counts time, thankful that the station doesn't have a great deal of electronic security outside the building. Mostly their more violent or dangerous prisoners were immediately transported.

When his watch signals, he walks quietly to the back door, runs the card reader over the door and then slides his cloned card through the slot. Opening the door, he lets it shut quietly behind him as he makes his way to the cells. Isaac needed him and he'd deliver.

Quietly opening the cell door, he ignores the hiss from the occupant across the hall and closes the door behind him. He is on Lahey before he even stirs. The knife is a firm, solid weight in his hands as he presses it up, pushing in slightly, not enough to break the skin, but just enough that it is felt, that Lahey knows what it is.

"See how easily I got to you Lahey?" Peter waits for the nod before continuing. "If you think solitary at Pelican Bay will prevent others from doing exactly this, you are grossly mistaken." Peter pushes the knife in a little more, piercing the skin ever so slightly. Blood wells slowly around the tip of the knife tip as it does so.

"I've been a very patient man Lahey, and I can tell you, that isn't the case, so tomorrow when your solicitor arrives you will sign each and every paper and forget you ever had a son named Isaac. Do you understand?" Before Lahey can make any movement, Peter slides the knife down his body, scraping it over flesh and bone, stopping every now and then to dig the tip in, just so Lahey knows he's in true danger.

And when he stops, a heightened breathy mewl drifts from the man's lips. Perfect.

"And my first order Lahey, do you know what that would be?" Peter questioned quietly as he pushed the knife in, firmly now, making sure he pierced skin without hesitation. He can feel the flesh under the knife trying to hide, draw up and away from the knife to safety. But there was no safety for this man where Peter was concerned.

"My first order for your welcome would be the removal of what makes you a man in your very small mind. I'm still debating as to whether I'd have them fed to you or not." He steps back, lithe and highly amused as the vomit explodes suddenly, fear is a rancid smell, heavy on the air. "And I thought you were so strong. My last words ever Lahey, sign the papers. Save your own life." Peter turns and exits the cell, locking the door behind him as Lahey continues to vomit. That smell adding to his fear now.

"Could have done without the vomit man." The occupant of the other cell murmurs quietly as Peter passes like a wraith.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I thought he had a strong stomach. It is rather on the nose isn't it?" He stops before passing out of sight to speak, leaning on the wall, looking for all the world as if he was at a croquet match or something.

"S'cool, fucker deserves whatever the fuck comes his way." The man says to Peter.

"Why thank you, so glad I'm not alone in my thoughts of his less than stellar humanism." Peter steps forward and high fives the occupant and then is gone, no evidence of his having been there in the first place. Though he left a lasting impression with his final, floating comment to the man he'd been speaking to. "Straighten up now, I know from experience that crime doesn't pay, not in the end." The man watching Lahey just shakes his head.

##########

The next morning, Peter steps into the roadhouse outside the county limits of Beacon Hills and looks around. He spots the man he's meeting and heads over. "Thank you Nathanial, I appreciate your help very much." He says quietly as he slides into the booth.

"Hey, s'cool, I still owe you, wasn't much for me to do except look at and fuck with their security." The man answers, his dreadlocks swinging as he nods his head to the beat of the rock music playing in the background.

"And that helped me get in and out without leaving any fingerprints, literal or otherwise." Peter said as he nodded at the offer of coffee the waitress offered. "Where are you headed now?" He questioned his friend after spying the bulging backpack on the seat beside him and realising the loaded Harley he'd parked next to was Nathanial's as well.

"I'm travelling for the summer. I need to decide where I'm going to settle down, or if I'm going to. And… Well I just need some space you know?" Nathanial speaks quietly as he begins to eat the plate of food put in front of him.

Peter looks at his own that Nathanial had ordered for him. "I do know. Exactly. It was easier for me because I had family that were waiting for me. Despite what I did, they still loved and accepted me. I can't even begin to understand how your family can turn their backs on you Nathanial. I'm truly sorry." Peter speaks as he begins to eat slowly himself.

"S'cool, kind of used to it you know?" Nathanial spoke as he cleaned his plate, but he didn't look up. His family's disowning him had happened before he went to prison anyway.

"No, and neither should you. I wish you'd stay longer but," Peter put up a hand forestalling Nathanial speaking, "I understand why you're not so I'm giving you this." He pushed a mobile phone across the table. "As long as you don't go crazy and probably even if you do, it's all yours for as long as you want it. All my contact details are there as are Derek's. I've also put John's and his son Stiles in there in case for some reason neither Derek nor I are available."

Stopping for a bit, Peter watched Nathanial, younger than he, older than Derek, long and whipcord lean, tough as old, well-polished boot leather, his black-coffee toned skin gleamed in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the roadhouse.

Nathanial's fey iridescent green eyes fringed by ridiculously long inky black lashes looked evenly back. "You are a beautiful man Nathanial." Peter says with a smile that morphs into a grin when Nathanial ducks his head and his dark skin turns a dull red-black of a blood blister as he flushes in embarrassment.

"Shut the fuck up Peter, or I'll make you." He threatens, though there is no heat behind his words. "Just because I like dick doesn't mean you get to treat me like a fucking girl." He finishes as he swipes the phone off the table rattlesnake quick and hitches his hips to put it in his pocket.

"Oh now, that's hardly fair, I like dick too." Peter argues as they stand and move to the cash register. He pulls out his wallet and pays for their breakfasts and they move outside, Nathanial stretching up and back with his arms as he swings into his backpack. His leather jacket and pants so well-oiled that they make no noise as he does so.

Settling it on, he snaps the chest links together and picks up the helmet he'd left on the bike when he'd parked at the roadhouse. Then he stops and looks at Peter. "You made that hell hole a fuck ton better than it would have been after you saved my life." He says simply making Peter beam in pleasure at the compliment.

"Thank you Nathanial, you made it better for me too. I know I don't need to say it, but I want to. You have a home here if you choose it." Peter had thought for days how to phrase it. Nathanial wasn't Isaac, would never be Isaac, he'd been an adult when they met. But Peter felt paternal toward him. "I'd love it if you chose to settle here when you've finished your travels." He finally finished with, hoping that he hadn't made Nathanial feel pressured in any way. He was as fey as his eyes, like a Will-o'-the-wisp, there one moment, gone the next. Nathanial would need to decide for himself that he wanted to live with Peter, if he wanted Peter to be _his_ family as much as Peter wanted to be his family.

"Thanks Peter. We'll see." Nathanial winks at him as he reaches back and undoes the tie in his dreadlocks so they settle flat at the back of his head. He raises the helmet just as Peter steps up to him and palms his butt, giving it a sexy squeeze as he does so making Nathanial focus on it so he doesn't feel Peter slip the envelope of cash into his jacket pocket from where he hadn't zipped the pocket up yet.

"Anytime Nathanial, I'm going to miss your pretty eyes." He says with a wink before he steps back after bussing the side of Nathanial's face before he pulls the helmet down over his head and raises the visor to look at Peter and shake his head as he zips his pockets, thankfully not noticing the bulk of the envelope yet. Peter hopes he'll be miles away when he finally feels it there, though he expects an extremely irate phone call sometime today in any case.

"You too Peter, I'll be back soon enough." Nathanial says as he pulls on his gloves and settles on his bike. "You take care of your boy and your family hear?" He looks up into the sly gaze of the man standing in front of him. "You do know you can't pick a pocket for shit right?" He questions as he stands and kicks his bike to life. He shakes his head and shuts his visor at the now gaping look of shock on Peter's face. "I'll be back, keep a room for me." He says, giving Peter what they both need. Then he is off with a laugh and a spray of gravel.

Unlike Peter, he doesn't miss the cruiser parked unobtrusively down the street. Slowing as he passes it, he lifts one hand from the handlebars and touches his finger to his helmet giving a salute to John as he passes. He sees John nod back and grins to himself as he wonders how John is going to punish Peter.

"Okay Nate, get your shit together so you can maybe come back and be part of the family." He says to himself as he revs his bike and heads toward the highway.

##########

_A few hours earlier…_

John watches quietly from his office. Shaking his head, he leans back in his chair and cuts the feed. The camera was one he'd installed himself, none of the deputies knew about it. He heaved a sigh of relief at Peter leaving Isaac's father alive. Rubbing the back of his neck, he thinks about what he's seen and heard.

He doesn't mention it to anyone. Just before shift change he goes down the same hallway himself and removes the camera he'd put in place on a hunch that had produced. He checks the logon's for the back door, not surprised when nothing shows. Whatever Peter had used to get in, it had been well and truly worth whatever he'd paid for it.

When the shit changes have finished, John again steps back into the cells. He looks at Lahey and shakes his head as he is lead away to speak to his solicitor. The vomit has been cleaned up, but the stench of it still lingers in the air. Then he steps up to the man in the cell across and down from him. He stares at him for a few seconds, watching the glowing green eyes stare back. "Nathanial Smith-Jones of the Massachusetts Smith-Jones, officially disowned at the age of twenty-one, a hell of a birthday present son by the way, recently released inmate of Pelican Bay, where you were, until his release the roommate of one Peter Hale," John leaned forward for the next bit, "You know, the man who broke in here last night?" He said it as a question, but they both knew it wasn't.

Nathanial ponders as he watches John who stands and allows him the time to decide what he'll say. Finally he sighs and stands, stretching as he stepped toward the bars of the cell. "How did he give himself away? I taught him better than that."

Grinning, John moved to the door and opened it, jerking his head for Nathanial to walk out. "C'mon, you're due for release in an hour anyway, you can spend that in my office." He turned and without checking to see if Nathanial was watching moved back through the station and into his office. "Shut the door behind you." He says to Nathanial as he sits down at his desk. Settling in, he watches Nathanial as he does the same and watches John back. "To answer your question, I'm the Sheriff, I know shit."

Laughing lightly Nathanial shook his head. "Paraphrasing a line from my second favourite movie."

"Fuck you, I know shit." John says the line in full and they both laugh lightly.

"You're a _Boondock Saint's_ fan?" Nathanial asks now.

"I am." John answers promptly. "Though I think one is my favourite. Still though, I wish Duffy would pull his finger out of his ass and get on a third one."

"Yeah but with Reedus on _The Walking Dead_ now, there's no fucking way they'd release him do to it, don't you think?" Nathanial wiggles in his chair, excited at being able to discuss _Boondock Saints_ with anyone.

"Where there's a will…" John trails off before picking up again, "Just like you and Peter." He stops and waits for Nathanial to finish.

Sighing, Nathanial sits back and then leans forward and picks up his belt that John had sitting on top of his effects. Beginning to thread it through his leather pants, he sighs again. "Peter saved my life in prison, when he was in hospital recovering from his own attack. I was in with a broken arm and was attacked again that night. He tore open his own skin and saved my life, killing two men in the process. They kept most of it out of the formal reports because a guard was found to have been on the take and that would look bad."

Pausing, Nathanial's mind drifted back in time to that horror-filled night. "I'm not talking about Peter, that's his story to tell Sheriff. But he saved my life. And he was cognizant enough to ensure our time there was as comfortable as it could be as a result of that guard. We roomed together, he even got us a room with a fucking window." Nathanial shook his head. "The man is just… He's… He thinks of everything you know?" He looked at John and watched him nod with a small smile.

"Yeah, of course you do. Anyway, we became friends, true friends and we kept in contact, when I was released, Peter picked me up, just like his family picked him up. We've got each other's back, though I figure even after this, my tabs still outstanding you know? How the fuck am I supposed to repay a man saving my life, taking care to make sure when he's released from prison that I'm still taken care of?" Nathanial asks John, genuinely wanting to know.

"Let him take care of you, it's what he thrives on. Just let him." John says simply.

"You, he likes you. I mean, he really likes you." Nathanial says to John as he finishes getting himself back together for when he's released properly.

"I really like him." John returns as he watches Nathanial settle back down again. "So, one more question. Will however he got in come back to haunt me?"

"No, you're good in that respect." Nathanial shakes his head adamantly.

"Okay then." John stands and takes Nathanial to be processed for release. When he finishes his shift, he waits beside Nathanial's bike that they'd stored in their parking lot.

"You mad at him?" Nathanial asks as he jingles his keys as he sits on his bike and puts on into the ignition.

"Not mad, but yeah, I'm something. Need to figure it out first." John says.

"Huh, good thing I don't do relationship I guess. All that compromise shit."

Snorting, John shakes his head. "One day, one day when you least expect it, a relationship will beat you over the head and you'll be down for the count. I speak from experience boy. It's happened to me three times now. What do you do for a living? Your file never said."

"Bit of this and that, I was a body piercer most recently. I'd been working toward my apprenticeship in stonemasonry when I was sent down."

"Hmm, hold on." John walks over to his cruiser and gets a card out of his glove box. "Here, he might be able to help, no promises, but I'll call him and tell him you might show up, if not it's good either way, but Trev keeps his ear to the ground, if you've got a strong back and you're willing to work, he'll be good to help you find something."

"No strings?" Nathanial asked him, his green eyes suddenly cold and calculating. Frowning John stares at him. Nathanial explains. "Am I gonna have to suck him off or some shit?"

"Fuck no!" John exclaims. "Fuck, Jesus. No." He scrubs his hands through is hair. "Trevor was the first of my three relationships, when I was younger than you. Then," He looks back at Nathanial, his own hazel eyes laser sharp now, "I met my wife and now Peter." He's explaining more than he wants to, but realises that Nathanial needs his honesty.

"Okay cool. Sorry." Nathanial speaks easily, his mood back to nice and easy quick enough to cause whiplash.

"Jesus." John shudders at the thought of Trevor insisting on being sucked off for finding Nathanial a job.

Getting in his cruiser, he follows Nathanial and parks a distance away from the roadhouse he stops at. Relaxing in his seat, John pulls out his phone as he watches for Peter. He knew he'd show up soon. He still wasn't sure how he was going to handle this. He didn't mind admitting he was being influenced by the conversation he'd had with Isaac's solicitor as he'd left the station to wait for Nathanial at his bike earlier.

He'd been at the bottom of the steps after his shift, looking at the weather and the traffic before he began to move toward the parking lot. Isaac's solicitor had stepped down the stairs and stopped with him. "Sheriff." John had nodded but not spoken. "I don't believe Isaac would mind me telling you that his father has just signed over his parental rights. Isaac's emancipation should go through without any problem now." He'd nodded a cordial goodbye and John had nodded back as the solicitor had walked down the street to his office.

Putting his phone to his ear, he listens to it ring as he watches Peter's Land Rover pull into the roadhouse parking lot and stop beside Nathanial's Harley.

"What?"

"Hell of a way to greet me, what the hell are you still doing in bed this time of day?" John asks as he watches Peter's ass swing its way merrily into the roadhouse.

"Fucking sinus is killing me this year, my head falls off my shoulders every time I fucking move." John shakes his head at Trevor.

"Nice to see you haven't tidied up your language T." He calls Trevor by his initial as he always has. Only Trevor's lovers had done that and he'd been the first. As Trevor had been his first.

"J, I love you man but if you don't get to the point I'm hanging up." John could hear the sinus in Trevor's voice now, it was hoarse, like he'd been sucking a cock all night, except it was nasal too, his sinus cavities were full of mucus.

"A guy may show up sooner or later. Name is Nathanial Smith-Jones, don't know whether he goes by Nate or anything, black, dreadlocks, green eyes. He'll be looking for work. See if you can do anything." John stops, letting Trevor mull over what he's said.

"You back in the land of anal then?" Is how he phrases it.

"Not with him."

"But with someone." It's a statement.

"Yeah, he's name is Peter. You'll meet him next time you come down." John says. And that makes him pause. He'd just made a long-term plan. That he would be with Peter at the end of summer when Trevor came down to spend his usual week with him and Stiles.

"Well I'll be damned." John hears rustling, Trevor is moving around in bed.

"We're both damned." He says making Trevor laugh. It was something Trevor's mother had said when she'd caught them in bed together years ago.

"Fuck yes."

"You know, I blame you for Claudia's and Stiles' potty mouths."

"Fuck you, she just never swore around you at first because she wanted to impress you."

"Uh huh, sure T, sure. Anyway, keep an eye out for him yeah?" He asks, getting back to his original subject.

"Will do, what's he do?"

"Said he was part way through a stonemason's apprenticeship when he was sent down, he's free and clear now and it wasn't something you need to worry about. And he said he'd been working as a piercer recently. Speaking of which, Stiles is now."

"Okay, you know I trust you. And Stiles is what?" Trevor asks.

"Pierced. And tattooed. And graduating this year. You'll understand why he didn't get it done with you when you meet his guy. He's already met his one T, actually…let me call you tonight, you need to come for the graduation if you can, surprise him. He'd love it." John sees Nathanial and Peter exit the roadhouse. "I've got to go, I'll call you tonight."

"Deal, text me the graduation date, I'll arrange it, talk tonight." Trevor hangs up without saying goodbye, neither he nor John every said goodbye in the traditional way.

Watching, John pockets his phone after texting the graduation date and time to Trevor. His eyes narrow to slits as he sees Peter palm Nathanial's butt cheek and give it a friendly, intimate squeeze, his fingers caressing the seam of those skintight leather pants. "Motherfucker." He swears, not even realising he'd spoken. He'd had no inclination whatsoever that Peter and Nathanial had been involved sexually.

He swallows when Peter busses Nathanial's cheek, his other hand stroking over it lovingly as Nathanial kicks his bike to life. Then, Peter stands there, watching him leave. John shakes his head as Nathanial salutes him but nods back. "Motherfucker." He says again. Jealous? Maybe. He wasn't sure. He didn't know, didn't know if he wanted to know.

But…he did want Peter to know he'd been seen. And so, pursing his lips, he starts the cruiser and leans on the horn as Peter opens his Land Rover door. He sees his head jerk up and look in John's direction. Sees him focus on the cruiser as the echo of the horn winds around the mountains in the warm air of the mid-morning day. A bright, sunny day that didn't in anyway match the black depth of John's mood. He sees the realisation flood Peter's features that he's been spotted in a possibly compromising way. And John sees Peter's features go blank, sees them schooled into that blank calmness that he'd had on his face the first time they'd met at John's house for Sunday lunch all those months ago.

Despair hit him at the thought that he maybe didn't know Peter as well as he thought he did. Breaking eye contact, John puts on his indicator and makes a U-turn, heading back to Beacon Hills and his bed.

Fuck his fucking life.


	8. Breakfast At Ch8

When John wakes up that evening, he rises and showers again on auto-pilot. He makes dinner for himself after reading the note Stiles had left saying he'd be at Derek's tonight. Sitting down to eat, he listens to the house. This is what it will be like when Derek and Stiles move into his house outside town.

Leaning back in his chair, he lets the silence of his home settle around him. Sighing, John thinks about looking into an apartment. When he's finished, he gets in his cruiser, automatically turning towards the cemetery. He arrives as the gates are being shut for vehicles so he parks and goes in through the small gate and walks the distance to Claudia's grave.

Settling down on the side of the slab, John speaks. "Hey Claud's." He murmurs as he brushes off a couple of leaves from the top of the headstone. "Stiles is graduating soon, I can't believe it." He says quietly as he rests his elbows on his thighs and leans his head down looking at the ground. "You'd be so proud of him, and you'd like his choice."

Stopping for a while, John just lets his mood wash over him along with the gentle hand on his shoulder. He knew Claudia wasn't really there, sitting beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder as she snuggles into his side. But it helps to think of what she would do and imagine her doing it. And he didn't care if it was crazy.

"Derek is special Claudia, he loves Stiles unconditionally. I think he's damn lucky to have found him so early in life, they've got so much time to spend together." John snorts as he thinks of the sounds he's heard from Stiles bedroom. "On the other hand, they're not exactly quiet. I'm told Derek's family home will be very soundproofed which I'm sure his sister and uncle will be happy about."

Opening his eyes and watching the sun bleed from the sky, John inhaled and exhaled several times. "You'd like Derek's sister, her name is Cora and she's an amazing young woman. Going to give some man a very serious run for their money one day I think. And she likes action movies." John says the last bit with a certain amount of satisfaction, rubbing his bicep at the punch he knew Claudia would have given him when he'd said that. "Hey, women can like them, even love them you know." He defends himself with a quiet laugh. He's enjoyed quite a few hours recently watching them with Cora.

"You'd take issue with Stiles and Derek and their sounds I think. When Stiles moves into Derek's place with him though, I'm not gonna know what to do with myself in the silence. Even when he's just at home studying, our son has an energy that you can just feel in the house. I'm gonna miss that. I'm gonna miss him. You've both deserted me."

Shaking his head, John settles in to listen to the night of the cemetery. He stays there for so long his phone vibrates in his pocket. Picking it out, he sees Trevor's name and grins. "It's Trevor. He's going to come and surprise Stiles for his graduation." John thumbs the phone to answer. "Hey." He says to Trevor. "Sorry, I was asleep and then I needed to visit Claudia." Trevor knew of his visits. There wasn't anything Trevor didn't know really.

"Say hi for me. I'll visit with you when I come for the graduation."

"I will, T says hi. She says hi back." John smiles when Trevor laughs. He stands and says goodbye to Claudia and walks away, the phone still at his ear. "So, you're okay to come for the graduation then?"

"I am, I managed to reschedule my appointments, figured I'd stay the weekend. There's someone else there I need to catch up with."

"Yeah? Cool. You're staying with us though?" John says as he stops, dreading that Trevor will break his usual routine and not stay with them.

"Of course I'm fucking staying with you. But I expect to meet your new guy." Trevor says with an exasperated tone of voice.

"Yeah yeah." John shakes his head. "So what time will you arrive then?" They make plans and John gets back in his vehicle, putting the phone on speaker as he begins to drive. He's not on duty tonight and isn't in the mood to go home. He looks down as his phone flashes another incoming call from the passenger seat.

Reaching out a hand, he slides it across the screen to ignore Peter's call and continues talking to Trevor. Eventually stopping his car at a park, he takes it up as he gets out and meanders over to a park bench to sit down. "So, not that I'm not enjoying our talk, but why are you sitting on a park bench in town on your own? Why haven't you called your guy since you're not working tonight?" Trevor asks finally.

John thinks about his answer for some time before he realises he doesn't have one he can explain over the phone. "Mind a visitor this weekend?" He asks instead, ignoring that Trevor was obviously keeping track of him via an app they both had installed on their phones.

"Never." Trevor answers. He asks nothing more, knowing immediately that John would talk when they were face to face. "Bed's already made. What time will you arrive?"

Standing, John moves back to his vehicle. "There's a bus that leaves at ten-thirty tonight, I'll be on it, I'll get a cab to your place."

"Don't be fucking stupid, text me what time you'll arrive and I'll pick you up." Trevor says and hangs up the phone on John's protest.

Back at home, John tosses a few things in a bag along with some toiletries and then grabs a heavier coat, San Francisco was a different kettle of fish with weather. He switches off all the lights and leaves the house, his cruiser sitting silently in the driveway.

When he walks down the street, he sees a four-wheel-drive turning into his street. He pauses as he realises its Peter's vehicle. When Peter pulls over and his window winds down, John stops reluctantly.

"What's up?" He asks, knowing full well why Peter was coming to visit him.

"Are you going somewhere?" Peter asks in return, ignoring John's question.

"Yeah, I'm going to visit a friend for a few days, I'm not on duty again until Sunday so I'm taking advantage." John explains no more.

"And you're walking there?" Peter's tone is like dry ice this time, Freezing John on the spot.

"Bus. And I'll miss it if I don't go." John pulls back and begins to walk down the street again. Behind him, he hears Peter's Land Rover reverse and then turn around and come back, crawling along beside him in first gear.

"Get in, I'll give you a lift." Peter says no more, doesn't offer again. John doesn't answer and he doesn't get in the car. When they get to the corner of the street, John turns right and Peter stops, the Land Rover idles there for a minute, but when John keeps walking, it turns left and leaves him on his own.

At the bus station, John grabs his ticket. As he's getting on the bus, he calls Stiles. "Hey bud, I'm going to visit Trevor for a few days. I'll be back on Sunday in time for work. Take care of yourself. Love you." John ends the call after speaking to Stiles' messagebank. Then he texts Trevor his arrival time and that the bus is leaving Beacon Hills on time.

Settling in his seat, his eye is caught when the bus pulls out by a shiny black Land Rover a block or so away, a single figure sitting behind the wheel. Closing his eyes, he drifts as the miles between he and Peter expand, both literally and figuratively.

##########

Arriving in San Francisco, John gets off the bus smelling like day old curry the man behind him had been releasing the entire trip. Trevor greets him with a hug and then pushes him away. "Fuck you smell man."

"Thanks T, just what I need to hear. Blame him." John points without remorse at the man who heaves himself away after collecting his bags.

"Huh, why do people eat shit like that when they're taking public transport?" He asks as he drops an arm around John's shoulder and guides him over to his truck. It's an old, beaten up and rusted Ford pick-up that he's since he was sixteen.

Trevor had inherited it from his own father, the only thing he'd ever been given and able to keep from his deceased father, his mother having thrown him out of the family home after she'd caught him in bed with John.

Getting in, John put on his seatbelt and closed his eyes as Trevor drove him back to his home. He had a small carriage house that had once belonged to the large mansion in front of it. Only opening his eyes when the garage door closes out the fog of the very early morning, John gets out tiredly. His phone pinging a message when he turns it on again to charge as he stands somewhat befuddled in Trevor's warm kitchen.

He listens to Stiles. "Hey pops, I'll be fine, say hi to Uncle for me and I'll see you when I get home, maybe not until after your shift though. Love you too." Stiles message finishes and John switches his phone to silent mode as he moves back to the bedroom he and Stiles usually stay in when they visit Trevor.

His bag is on the bed and the bed is turned down. Stripping, John makes his way to the bathroom and has a hot shower, standing under the water to wash away the curry smell as well as his own heartache. It's metaphorical he knows, but still.

Once he's dried off and cleaned his teeth, he moves back into the bedroom, not at all surprised to see Trevor lying on the side of the bed Stiles would normally sleep. Patting the turned down bed, Trevor speaks. "Come and tell me." He says simply.

"I don't know where to start." John does as ordered and settles down beside Trevor. He lies on his side facing Trevor who turns to do the same. "I met someone, we started slow, he didn't know if he wanted a relationship and that was all I was interested in. Too old for fuck buddies or one night stands. Plus I just don't want them."

"So? Slow beginnings are good." Trevor strokes a hand down John's arm, tangling their fingers together, he brings them up to his lips and kisses John's knuckles.

"They are, and it is good, was good, still has the potential to be good." John finally decides on making Trevor laugh a little as he qualifies and re-qualifies himself.

"Okay, so you've not broken up, but something happened. Something that's bothering you enough that a visit to Claudia isn't clearing it up. What about Melissa?" Trevor is still in contact with Melissa mostly through Christmas cards, but still.

"Peter has done time, I'm fine with that, he was found not guilty in his second trial and released. But he kept some contacts. Smart I guess." John stops, thinking on how to explain what Peter had done in his office, on his watch.

"But he did something, something on my watch. No one was hurt, the opposite actually. What he did got this fucking pedophile to give up his parental rights so Peter could adopt his abused son. _I_ don't have a problem with that."

The emphasis on the word I tells Trevor what John does have a problem with. "But he did it when you were on duty didn't he?" John nodded mutely and Trevor sighed. "Guess he doesn't know you so well then."

"I thought he did." John whispered this sentence and rolled over in bed, facing away from Trevor whose heart began to ache.

"You love him." It wasn't a question. Trevor knew John as well as he knew himself, they'd been friends before they were lovers, they'd known each other since before they were born they liked to say as their mother's had met in the doctor's office having check-ups. They were born within days of each other, their whole lives wrapped and entwined like a vine of wisteria, a scent they both loved.

"I do, I fucking realised it this morning when I saw him feeling up a guy outside a roadhouse. The same guy he'd used to help him do what he did. He fixed the electronics near as I can tell. The same guy I sent to you."

Closing his eyes, Trevor scooted forward, moulding himself to John, sharing his warmth with him. He winced as his sinus-filled head protested the move but ignored it. He wrapped his arm around John and held on tight, lending his strength.

"You want me to get him taken care of?" Trevor joked. "Or do it myself?"

"No, I want it not to hurt." John said in return.

"Can't help you there J." Trevor kept stroking John rhythmically, deliberately getting his body to relax and fall into sleep. When that finally happened, dawn was showing through the crack in the blind. Rolling onto his back, Trevor slid out of bed and moved down the hall to his own bedroom. He changed into a pair of sweats and took out his frustration and anger at John being hurt in a run along the still-foggy streets.

Returning home, he showered, made some breakfast and took himself to work. John knew where his shop was, he'd visit if he needed. Working steadily on a custom design for a customer, stopping only for lunch or to chat to a few regulars, Trevor lost himself in the sketching. He kept his drafting table front and centre, beside the large bay window so potential clients could see his creating right from step one. It had netted him numerous clients over the years once they saw him create a design.

Sometime in the early afternoon, he stops and rubs his neck, it had been itching for a little while. Not aching from strain, just itching as if someone were watching him. Turning around, he realised that someone was watching him.

Glimmering green eyes surrounded by the longest, blackest lashes that he'd ever seen watched him carefully. Trevor blinked as if coming out of a stupor and stood, stretching his large frame as he went. He saw the guy's eyes track his every movement, and he saw his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallowed. Damn.

"John never mentioned how pretty you were." He said by way of a greeting. This was Nathanial Smith-Jones. The Nathanial who John's Peter had felt up yesterday and sent him into a tailspin. Trevor didn't know whether to hug or punch the guy. Hug him for making John realise that he loved Peter, or punch him for being with the guy who had hurt him.

The man blinked at him and shook his head. "It's the eyelashes." He murmured, it sounded like something he'd said thousands of times over the years.

"More than likely for most, for me it's your bone structure and your peridot eyes. Colour is a thing with me." Trevor answered him. Whatever issues John was having, they were with Peter not, "Nathanial right?" He asked as he held out a hand.

"Nate." Nate accepted the hand and they shook and released. Trevor refused to shake the tingles away. His grip had been firm and warm, very very warm.

"Nate it is, John mentioned you might be stopping by, said you might be looking for work?" He made it a question, just to be on the safe side.

"Yeah, I'm good with my hands, got a strong back and I'm not real fussy, though I'd prefer to be able to move around, not just stand in one place all day. But that's about it. Don't mind nights, days, early mornings." Nate stopped with a shrug and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

Resolutely ignoring the way that pushed them down to expose just a smidgeon of flesh between Nate's shirt and underwear, Trevor nodded as he went through what clients had mentioned and friends about work. "Well, John said you were a piercer?" Nate nodded. "And that you were partway through your stonemason's apprentice before you had to stop?" Another nod. "Okay, what side of town are you on?" When Nat mentioned the rooming house he was staying at, Trevor paused. "You aware that's a gay boarding house?" He asked, just to be on the safe side. His words were neutral.

"I am, and I am." Nate answered him as he looked around the shop.

"Cool. Okay, if you were going to pierce my septum, which of those would you use and what gage needle?" He asked as he gestured to the display of body jewellery behind him.

Watching, Trevor took up a rag and wiped off his hands. He listened as Nate pointed and spoke. "Okay, and if you're doing my nipples?" He listened again. "A woman's nipples?" Right answer again. "I can give you Saturday's provided you're personable with the customers and you don't mind answering questions with them like just now. I don't have any more openings yet. And there is a delivery place looking for a driver, they furnish the van and it has GPS, city routes. You'll have to haul some, but you said you didn't mind moving. I understand there is also a lot of sitting on your ass too."

Moving behind his counter, Trevor takes out the business card of the courier company. "Here you go. Tell them up front you've done time, they'll be willing to give you a chance provided you're honest." He passes the card to Nate and he pockets it.

"What time on Saturday?" He asks quietly as he moves to the door with Trevor following.

"Nine-thirty. We open at ten and shut at midnight. You'll get breaks throughout the day." Trevor stepped outside with Nate and breathed deeply. He can see Nate watching him from the corner of his eye and wonders what's on his mind. "What is it boy?" He asks as Nate continues to look at him.

"John said his first relationship was with you, you don't seem like a match." He said and Trevor laughed.

"He was telling the truth, we were young and I didn't have the bodywork I have now either. Though John is no shy gay boy either. He's inked. I did it." Trevor isn't sure why he says that, except he didn't want Nate to be getting the wrong idea. But the wrong idea about what? Him or John? Or both? Shaking his head he stretches again, not missing the way Nate still watches. "We'll get your paperwork done first thing before we open on Saturday."

"Okay, I like this." Trevor jerked when a dark finger cruised slowly down the side of his neck, touching the tattoo he had inked there, it travelled all over his body, though Nate wasn't to know that.

"Thanks, it's a work in progress." And it was, Trevor didn't know if he'd ever finish that one. "You got ink yourself?" He asked curiously.

"No. I had a couple of piercing's before I went away. Might redo them." Nate stretched up, reaching his fingers to the canopy over the shop door that they were standing under and batting it.

"Yeah? A blank canvas? Fuck me, you think you'll get something?" He asked now as his mouth watered thinking about all that naked, unblemished skin, standing right there beside him.

"Well, it wouldn't really be visible would it? I am black you know." The last sentence was said in such a dry, deadpan voice Trevor couldn't help snorting in laughter before letting it loose in a great belly laugh.

"Nice to see someone is having a good day." John's voice entered their conversation. Trevor turned around and Nate jerked and stared hard.

"Hey, you sleep enough?" Trevor tilts John's chin up and looks into his eyes. He can see Nate starting at the two of them, frowning at John.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Peter?" He asked suddenly.

"Because I've got a few days off, I came to visit my oldest and best friend." John said evenly as he nodded at Nate. "You got a line on some work?" He asked as he stood under the awning with them.

"Yeah, your friend has given me Saturday's all day and I've got a line on a local courier job." Nate stepped back. "Speaking of, I'd better get on over there. Thanks again, I'll see you Saturday."

Trevor merely nods as he and John watch Nate walk away, down the street to his bike. They watch him kick it to life and then turn and look at each other.

"I'm gonna say it, that boy is fucking hot." Trevor says suddenly, grinning widely as John's mouth quirks in a lazy grin. "Bet his ass feels like a fucking glove, all warm and milking a cock, making it release its load like mother's milk."

Shaking his head now, John laughs a little. "Yeah, like Peter's." He said before shaking his head. "Ugh, I'll deal with that when I get home. Take me to dinner T, get me drunk and put me to bed."

Trevor did exactly that.

Their Friday is lazy, Trevor doesn't work it because he works Saturday and Sunday all day each day. And Saturday they're open late. He pours John into bed in the early hours of Saturday morning and goes to bed himself. When he wakes to his alarm, he follows his usual routine, run, weights today, shower, good breakfast. He puts a large jug of water and some painkillers on John's bedside table and leaves him.

At the shop, he turns on the lights. Checks the stations the staff had left were clean and sanitized. Getting out the paperwork he needs, he unlocks the door and relocks it behind Nate when he arrives. "Hey, you get the courier job?" He asked as he gestured for him to come back to Trevor's office.

"Sure did, four days a week, Monday through Thursday. They were good with me working here on Saturday's too." Nate sits down and begins to fill out the paperwork that Trevor indicated. When he's finished, Trevor leaves it on his desk to file later and shows Nate around the premises. He explains about the cash register, the credit card machine, gives him a few other jobs to keep him busy and sets him loose, keeping an eye on him as he goes.

Trevor tattoos for the most part with his cubicle open for people to watch. It's only if he's tattooing a private piece or the client asks for the cubicle to be shut that he does so. So throughout the day, he feels Nate's eyes on him, watching him work. He listens to Nate talking to people as well, and watches a couple of times when he's not working as Nate does a couple of piercings.

During a lull, Nate speaks to him directly since the first time they'd opened. "I'm going to need to redo myself. Can't be a piercer with no piercings." He says.

"Had a feeling when I saw the preppy one walk out. Go ahead, on the house since its advertising and all. And consider your probation over." Trevor walks over. "You okay to do yourself or do you want me do to it? I'm qualified." He looks at Nate as he looks back.

"Not yet, got a limit on how many are on the house?" Nate surprises him with that question.

"Ah, not unless you're going to do like twelve ear piercings in each ear or something." Trevor leans forward over the counter, looking closely at Nate's face. Nate lets him, knowing what he's looking for. "You had a couple in each ear, cartilage nose, snake-eyes and labret. Septum?"

Nate shakes his head. "No, tongue though and a couple below the neck."

"Nipples?" A nod. "More?" Another nod. Shit, his cock was getting hard. Trevor stepped back. "I'm cool with all of that and the more if you want. Need a hand let me know." He stepped back and turned, going to the bathroom to take a leak and cool down.

He walks back into the front shop in time to see Nate piercing one of his ears. He stops so he doesn't startle him and watches him finish and clean himself up. He's done a couple on the lobe in one ear and in the other, he's just finishing an industrial piercing. "I'm just using the stainless steel." Nate says as Trevor comes over as he's screwing in the ball on the industrial piercing.

"That's fine, you can take your pick when they're healed, gold or platinum we can work out a discount." He says as he looks at the work. "You do good work, really good work." And Nate did, the skin was a little red but nothing more, no blood apart from the initial drops. "Going to do anything else?" He asks now.

"I'm…" He trails off as someone pushes open the door to the shop. They both turn and Trevor steps forward, it's a regular of his.

In the early evening he's thinking about dinner when his mobile rings. He grins as he answers it. "Hey, you finally surface?" He asks John.

"Yeah, you want me to bring dinner down for you two?" He asks.

"Sure, just a sec. Hey Nate you feel like anything in particular for dinner? Got anything you do or don't eat?" He raises his voice to ask.

"Yeah, a couple of things, what are we having?" He asks as he moves closer to Trevor.

"What are you looking to bring us?" Trevor asks John as he finishes wiping down his station, a client had just finished and paid Nate.

"Steak good?"

"Steak?" Trevor asks Nate.

"Cool, no pumpkin or sweet potato shit. Spicy is fine and salad. Béarnaise sauce if I get a choice wherever the sheriff goes. And cooked medium well." He says as he turns toward the door as it chimes.

"You hear that?" Trevor asks John.

"I did, I'm on my way, I'll park out the back, code still the same?" Trevor answers that it is and John clicks off. Leaving Nate in the shop, he moves out the back and cleans off the table in the break room. Then he shrugs and sets it for three.

His mobile rings again as he's putting salt and pepper on the table. Frowning he looks at the display then grins. "Hey godson, how are you?" Trevor doesn't mention the graduation, like John he wants it to be a surprise.

"Hey Uncle, is Dad with you, he's not answering his phone."

"No, he's out getting dinner, must have left it at home or something." Trevor lies without a qualm. If John had wanted to talk to his son about his relationship, he would have done so already. Trevor wouldn't want Stiles to be losing focus during the last days of school either.

"Okay, he's doing well? Coming home tomorrow yeah?"

"He is, I'm dropping him at the bus, he's getting the midday one back." Trevor says as he hears John pull up out the back. "Hey kiddo," He calls Stiles that too, "I've got to go, a client just arrived."

"Cool, see you at the end of summer. I've stuff to show you." Stiles says with a cackle.

"So I hear, it better be good artwork is all I can say."

"It is, he is." Stiles says. "Bye Uncle." Stiles hangs up and Trevor flicks off his phone.

"You lied." Nate speaks softly as he leans in the doorway.

Turning Trevor nods. "I did, John is dodging him for some reason." Trevor says as he looks at the back door.

"Go put the sign on the door, let's give ourselves an hour, sound good?" Trevor asks Nate as John opens the back door.

"It does, I'm looking forward to it." Nate says with a flashing grin that leaves Trevor almost gasping at its beauty.

"Down boy." John says with a feral grin as he sees Trevor palm his cock and adjust it once Nate has gone.

"Fuck you." Trevor answers as he feels his face flush. He was way too old to fucking blush.

Laughing, John sets the containers down and opens them, "Nate's. Yours and mine." He leaves one in the middle of the table. "That's dessert."

They both wait until Nate comes back and then the three of them begin to eat silently. Ignoring a knock of an insistent possible client, they finish their steaks.

Sitting back, Nate wipes his mouth with the napkin and sighs. "That was exactly right, how much do I owe you?" He hitched a hip making Trevor's pulse spike and went for his wallet.

"Nah, you get it next time I'm in town yeah?" Nate frowns but nods.

"Uh, could you give this to Peter for me please?" He gets up and moves to the sitting area where he'd left his jacket, helmet and backpack this morning. Taking out an envelope he hands it to John. "Tell him I've got jobs and I don't need it, more that I don't want it."

It's very obvious that the envelope contains cash, a substantial amount by the look of it. Trevor gapes at it as John blinks and nods before turning and putting it in his jacket pocket hanging on the back of his chair.

"He slipped it to me yesterday when we were leaving, I intended to transfer it back electronically, I can't win an argument with him. Being underhanded is the only way I can do it." There is a plaintive note in Nate's voice and John's answering grin tells Trevor that he's familiar with this side of Peter.

"Sure can. How about dessert?" He opens the bakery box and Trevor just sighs. White chocolate éclairs.

They eat their dessert, conversation beginning to pick up. It ebbs and flows, sometimes John and Trevor talking as Nate listens, sometimes Trevor and Nate talking about work, occasionally Nate engages John, mostly talking about Peter.

When John gets up to do the dishes, Nate stands to help him. "Just so you know, we're not like that, a couple, we were never a couple in the traditional sense." He says. "Peter just, he's physical. Handsy." He finally says after a pause.

"Yeah, I know, it's who he is." John says neutrally. Then he gives in. "It's not that he felt you up Nate, it's not you." He says quietly.

And Nate gets it, Trevor can see it in the relaxation of his shoulders, the release of tension as he begins to dry the dishes John washes.

Trevor nods to himself. John would figure it out, he knew it. And if not? Well, he'd just be having a quiet word with this Peter.

Watching them, Trevor finds his gaze drifting more to Nathan. He shakes his head at himself. The guy was almost a kid. Speaking of, Trevor goes into his office and takes up Nathan's paperwork, picking up a folder to put it in his filing cabinet after he enters it into the computer. It's only when he's keying in Nate's emergency contact that his heart stops. Peter _Hale_. _Peter Hale_.

Swallowing, Trevor shakes his head. What were the fucking odds? That meant Stiles was with Derek. And that his piercings and tattoos would be absolutely perfect. Well, it was going to be a surprise in more ways than one when he showed up on graduation day. And that gives him an idea.

Going back to the kitchen, he listens to John and Nate talking about a movie they both like. "Hey Nate, since you know Peter, why don't you come back with me next week for Stiles' graduation, you don't have to go to the ceremony but you can catch up with Peter. I assume you can stay with him?" He asks, then continues on. "If not, you can share with me at John's."

John nods before Nate can say anything. "That's a great idea, I know Peter would love to see you again."

"Uh, I'm not sure, I mean, I don't know your son, it feels weird."

"It's not, like I said, you won't go to the ceremony, unless Stiles invites you, which he probably will actually. But it'll give Peter a chance to be more comfortable with you living and working here and shit." Trevor speaks. Then he looks deliberately at John. "It'll be good to catch up with him again too."

It takes John a few seconds, not long at all, he's smart, deductive. Trevor can almost see his brain working at warp speed. He watches, his grin blooming across his face as John's head drops and he shakes it.

"What?" Nate asks in confusion. Trevor just shakes his head and points at John.

"Jesus fucking Christ. I should have realised. Derek's your Boy Wonder." John says as he turns to Trevor and crosses his arms across his chest ignoring that they're still wet.

"Yeah, he is." Trevor answered as he began to laugh.

* * *

><p><em>AN – No update for two weeks sorry. To quote Sheldon of The Big Bang Theory, I will be AFK (away from keyboard) next weekend._


	9. Breakfast At Ch9

"Do you know what you're going to do?" Trevor asks as John gets out of his truck at the bus station.

"Maybe, I'll see you guys on Thursday night yeah?" John asks as he rests a forearm on the passenger door, leaning down to look at Trevor.

"I'll give you a call when we're about an hour out, that okay?" Trevor asks as he puts the truck in gear.

"Yeah, see you then." John turns as Trevor pulls out and drives away.

He takes out his phone and texts a message as he waits in line to pick up his ticket. _'you should tap that ass you like so much, bet he's fine'_ he grins as he hands across his confirmation, gets his ticket and boards the bus. Trevor doesn't respond, but John didn't expect him to.

Yes, Nate was younger, but Peter was younger than him, yes there was more of an age difference with Trevor and Nate, but still. John had seen the way Nate looked at Trevor, his peridot eyes gliding up and down his frame, watching him silently. Almost eating him, the hunger barely hidden, it was almost animalistic in its intensity. John shook his head. Trevor was oblivious to stuff directed at him, always had been. He'd had to nearly beat Trevor over the head to get him to realise his interest was reciprocated before they originally got together.

But, he had his own issues. And to be honest, John wasn't sure he was up to it. The few days away had made him feel better, he had perspective. He'd realised as soon as he saw the envelope of cash that he now carried in his jacket what Peter had been doing when he'd fondled Nate, but as he'd said to Nate, it wasn't that.

Peter had betrayed John's trust in its most basic form. He'd raped John's self-esteem in regard to his job. Dragged it through the mud, spat and shit on it, leaving a raw, gaping wound that might never recover. Yes, he understood why, he knew Peter loved Isaac, almost to the exclusion of all else, he'd do anything for him, had done anything for him, no matter the consequences.

Sighing, John watched the landscape go by and thought about what, if anything he could do. He decided to leave it until after the prom and graduation ceremony. Trevor and Nate would be here on Thursday night late and leaving first thing on Saturday morning, they weren't staying for prom. When everyone was at prom would be a good time for him and Peter to talk.

Taking out his phone, John texted Peter. _'we need to talk, when everyone's at prom will be ideal'_ he says and texts, then sends a second one '_are you amenable?_'

He reply is immediate, Peter must have been holding his phone or something. _'will we survive this particular talk John?'_

'_I hope so'_

'_Do you want to survive this talk?'_ A further question.

'YES' John answers

'_Alright then, in the meantime I want to talk about something else, are you home?' _

John hesitates for a few minutes, long enough to get another text of just a question mark from Peter. '_No, still on the bus, can you pick me up then?'_ He asks with his throat closing in panic, he doesn't ask for shit, he offers shit, does shit for other people. But John never asks for something to be done for him. He felt lightheaded at asking Peter to do this single, simple thing for him.

And maybe that was it. Was it? Peter hadn't asked for his help. Was that why he was so angry? Was he hurt as well? Shaking his head, John reads the return text. _'Of course, what time?'_ He texts back his time and settles down again.

When he steps off the bus, he sees the Land Rover straight away. It's only then he realises that Peter had left the family lunch to pick him up. Putting his bag on the backseat, John gets in and buckles his seatbelt. "Hey," he leans over and busses Peter's unshaven cheek.

Peter stares at him for a few seconds. "Welcome home." He says as he pulls out and drives to John's. Neither of them speak. Stopping in the driveway behind John's cruiser, Peter switches off the engine. "So, what I wanted to talk about is a graduation gift for Stiles, my family has…" Peter stopped for a second, a flash of pain crossing his face. "Had, they had a tradition. Cufflinks for the men, necklaces with initials for the girls. Usually on the birthday directly before graduation. But, I thought it would be nice to do that now, for Derek, Stiles, Isaac and Cora since they're all going. Would that be something you'd be interested in doing for Stiles?" He stopped talking and looked at John.

"I love you, you fucking hurt me Peter." John says suddenly, the words spewing from his throat like a curse of epic proportions. Watching Peter's face slacken in shock, John shoves out of the vehicle and grabs his bag, taking a certain measure of satisfaction in slamming the expensive vehicle's back door hard enough to make it shake.

"Oh now that was mature John. Very mature." Peter gets out and closes his door before locking the vehicle. John ignores him and goes inside after unlocking his front door. He leaves it open behind him and walks up the stairs, leaving it up to Peter as to whether he follows or doesn't.

Tossing his bag into his bedroom but keeping his toiletry bag, John heads to the bathroom. He can hear Peter's footsteps on the stairs, coming resolutely closer. Unpacking his toiletries, John switches on the shower and undresses, letting his clothes fall where they may.

Stepping in, he closes his eyes and rests his palms on the wall as he sighs. "It's a good gift, I'd like that, Stiles will like it too." He says without raising his voice, knowing instinctively that Peter was in the bathroom with him.

"Okay then, I'll organise them. What metal would you like for him?" Opening his eyes, John watches as Peter picks up his clothes and bundles them into the hamper.

"Rose gold." John says without hesitation.

"It will suit him." Peter says. He leaves the bathroom and John is halfway through washing his hair when he returns with John's dirty clothes having obviously unpacked for him.

"Thank you." John says as he rinses his hair.

"You're welcome." Peter doesn't stay though, leaving the bathroom again. John finishes and gets out, drying off, he hitches the towel around his waist and moves to his bedroom stopping dead in the doorway.

Peter is naked, kneeling on the bed, knees spread and his hole glistening with lube, evidence he's already prepped himself to receive John's cock. A condom is lying, beside his knee on the bed, open and ready for John to roll on.

"You want my cock?" John asks in surprise.

He watches, salivating as he sees Peter's hole clench and then present for him. "Yes, I need you. I need you to fuck me hard John. Punish me." The words cause John's skin to crawl with both desire and dread.

He goes forward, cock swinging like a metronome in front of him. Stepping up to Peter, John can't help from brushing his hands over that beautifully flawed skin, turning his hand, his knuckles graze Peter's scarred skin before they glide over the unscarred side. "Why am I punishing you Peter?"

"For betraying your trust, for making you believe I was unfaithful, though I haven't been with anyone since we first came to lunch here." John's hand palm smacks sharply down on Peter's buttock making him jump and arch his back out more. "Yes. _Please_ John." He is practically mewling, vibrating in need.

Shaking his head, John begins to knead Peter's buttocks now, pinching and stroking the skin softly. "I'm not going to punish you Peter, you don't need that, you need me to love you and that's what I'm going to do." Everything is simple now, right here, right at this moment in time, it's simple.

He needs to show Peter love. Warm, physical love. Stroking his fingers over Peter's skin now, he hums, letting Peter move and writhe against him. "That's it, just relax for me, let me make you feel good, you think I don't know what you did Peter?" John continues to stroke as he talks, letting Peter know that he knows everything about his nocturnal visit at the same time he tells him with his physical touch that he's still here, they're still together.

After a while, Peter is a throbbing mass of nerve endings, literally writhing under John's hands. Picking up the condom, he rolls it on and then pumps some lube into his hand and strokes it over his hard cock. But he hesitates before pushing inside that snug haven. Shaking his thought off before Peter can question him, John pauses as the tip of his cock brushes Peter's pulsing hole.

"I hope you prepped yourself enough baby." He says as he begins to push, slow and steady, he breaches Peter's warmth, Finds himself sighing in pleasure as he comes home inside Peter. "There you are, you feel so good, like a warm haven, so good, I miss you when you're not around, I miss you when I'm in the same house but not in the same room. I need you." John stops talking as a long, pleasured, protracted moan comes from Peter's mouth.

He'd been talking but not moving, Staying pressed snugly inside Peter as he spoke his heart. "Yes, I want that, I need you too." Peter says as he pushes back and his hole erupts around John's cock. He'd orgasmed just from John's words, John could see both his hands, neither of them touching his cock.

"Oh god baby, you came just from my words, you are such a word whore, you love it when you're talked to an orgasm don't you, I bet I could talk you to another one couldn't I?" John begins to thrust slowly back and forth, taking his time. Making as if he has all the time in the world, pretending his heart isn't bursting from his chest with need, that sweat isn't dripping off his body onto Peter's. That he doesn't need to come as much as Peter obviously did.

"I think I could talk you up and over again, talk about how much I love my cock inside your sweet honey pot, how much I love the way you blossom under my touch, how much you moan like an overage virgin in a whorehouse." John picked up his pace though he still kept it steady, his voice is hoarse and cracking frequently from the strain that he feels everywhere in his body.

None of that matters though, what matters is that he keeps talking. He needs to keep talking to Peter. "I think it's sexy you know," He strives for a conversational tone but is too aroused himself to pull it off, not that Peter cares.

"What is?" Peter's words are gasped as he splays on the bed, his knees spread as wide as they can without his pelvis lying flat on the mattress, his shoulders on the bed, head tilted awkwardly to the side straining his neck. He doesn't care, all he cares about is the cock in his hole and that it doesn't stop moving and the voice making him feel so deliciously dirty.

"That you like to be spoken to like a deviant, I love making you feel dirty and I love that you get off on it. You know I do too. And you are you know, my dirty, filthy, slutty whore, begging for my cock right now with your spread legs and your pretty hole winking at me when I pull back, grasping at me from the inside, trying to get me to stay in you. I wish I could just stay in you and never leave." John gives up talking as his hips pick up, Peter's hole pulses spasmodically around his cock in a hot wave as he comes again and John comes with him this time.

"There you are, I knew you could do it. Beautiful." Leaning over Peter, panting like a whore himself, John slowly relinquishes his grasp on Peter's buttocks and hips as he does so. He feels himself moving and realises Peter is letting himself fall fully onto the bed.

After a minute, John pulls back, still clumsy in his recovery. He pushes himself back, holding onto the condom and leans down, spreading Peter's ass to land a kiss on his relaxed hole, his tongue pushing inside easily. He feels Peter moan and push back and grins to himself. Stopping after a few licks, he uses his fingers on Peter, massaging his sphincter, helping it close before he stands and yanks off the condom.

"I need something to eat." He says as he tosses a quilt over Peter's still splayed body and walks downstairs buck naked. It wasn't' something he normally did but he had a feeling Stiles wouldn't come back without calling.

In the kitchen he's eating a sandwich he's made and drinking some juice when Peter staggers in. He sits down and takes the juice John has already poured for him, downing it quickly and pouring another one to sip. "Well, I'm going to be useless for a while, you fucked my brains out John. Literally." Peter lays his head down on the table and closes his eyes and John laughs lightly as he brushes his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

"Nice to know I can do that to you Hale." He says as he finishes his sandwich. After cleaning up after himself, John sits down after re-filling their juice glasses. He strokes Peter's cheek this time and sees his murky azure eyes open and look at him.

"The only one." Peter murmurs as he sits up and takes up his juice again.

"About that," John leans back in his chair, resting both hands on the table, trying to appear relaxed. He's never asked what he's about to of another man in his life. "Next time I fuck you and vice versa, I'd like for there to not be a barrier. Of the latex kind." He clarifies his statement to make sure Peter is aware of what he's suggesting. "I'll make an appointment for myself at the clinic if you agree." He's fully aware he can make a statement about what he wants, that doesn't mean Peter has to agree.

Peter sat up slowly, looking at John the entire time, he mimicked John's pose, placing both hands flat on the table. Swallowing he looked down at them and then took a breath. Letting it out slowly, he looked back at John. "I've never had sex with a man and not used one. The only woman I didn't use one with was my girlfriend in college." Looking down again, Peter chewed on his bottom lip. Then, he looked back into John's eyes as a smile bloomed across his beautiful face. "I'd be delighted to take that step with you John. You honour me by asking and offering for the blood test, make a double appointment and we'll go together, will that be okay?"

The last question is hesitant, as if Peter is unsure John would want them to go and get the tests done together.

"It would be my honour to go and have the test with you Peter." It was John who hesitated now, he hadn't planned to mention Trevor until Peter had said what he'd said about his own sex life and protection. "I need to tell you though, Trevor and I, we were each other's firsts, so we never used condoms, we weren't sleeping with anyone else or anything, but… It's right that I tell you that. And of course Claudia and I, we didn't use them either, obviously." John said making Peter smile as they both thought of Stiles. "But, ever since Claudia passed, I've not had sex with anyone not that there have been a lot of anyone's, without a condom either." Sighing, John picked up his juice and drank the rest of it.

Standing, Peter moved to the phone table out in the hall, he opened the drawer of the table and pulled out the phone book. Flipping through it, he picked up the cordless phone and brought them back to the kitchen. Sitting down, he pointed at the phone book. "Is that them?" He asked as he looked at the listing.

Leaning over, John squinted at it without his glasses. "That's it."

Dialing the numbers, Peter hit call. "What are your shifts this week?"

"Tonight, through Wednesday, then I'm not back on official duty until Saturday night."

Nodding, Peter asked for a double appointment, then raised his eyebrow and looked at the clock on the microwave. "Yes, we can be there, it's for Hale, yes a double appointment." He pressed to end the call and stood." They've got two last appointments left today, let's go."

"Okay, that's good." John stood as well and they walked back upstairs, Peter putting the phone book and phone back as they passed the hall table.

Upstairs, John dresses casually and Peter gets back in his clothes. Back downstairs they grab their keys and wallets and leave the house. John jerks back and catches the keys that come flying at him unexpectedly. "You drive." Peter says as he moves to the passenger side of his vehicle and waits for John to beep it open.

"Sure?" John questions as he presses the remote. His answer is Peter getting in the passenger seat. "I guess so." He says as he moves around to the driver's side. When they're on their way, he speaks again. "I've organised a surprise for Stiles' graduation. His godfather is going to come, he'll arrive here Thursday evening, so I thought we could have dinner at my place that night, they have to leave again first thing Saturday, they won't be staying for prom, they work all day on Saturday and it was too much for Trevor to take off."

It takes a long time for Peter to answer. "Trevor?" Is all he finally says when he speaks. His tone is non-committal.

"Yes, Trevor. We've stayed in touch, he's Stiles' god father. I hope that won't be a problem, especially since he's Derek's mentor as well, they're very close I understand." John sees no surprise on Peter's face, he already knew. "When did you figure it out?" He asked as they park at the clinic.

"Not long before…ah well." Peter breaks off and John nods. They'd agreed not to talk about that until Saturday night. "Who is they?" Peter asks now and John smiles.

"A friend, but I'd like for you to be there when they arrive, I think you'll like Trevor's friend." He grins to himself as he thinks of Nate. He'd been gleeful at the prospect of surprising Peter, something few people ever managed to do.

"Derek will get a surprise as well." Peter mentions casually as they both take clipboards to fill out forms.

"He will, should we let Cora in on the secret?"

"No, she loves Trevor, she'll enjoy the surprise too." Peter answers. They fall silent after that, filling out the forms.

When they leave the clinic some time later, Peter keys a reminder into his phone to call them for the results, then makes John do the same.

"Let's get you back for a nap before you go to work, I'll make something light for you to take with you. Is that okay?"

John stops and looks at Peter, smiling he steps forward and right there on the street, a few doors down from the clinic, he draws Peter in and kisses him softly.

When they break away, Peter is flushing and a wolf whistle drifts to them on the air followed by "Go Sheriff!" John rolled his eyes and flushed now too.

"You just came out." Peter's words are a shocked whisper.

"Anything for you Peter." John says as he beeps the Land Rover unlocked and moves to the driver's side.

##########

Peter would be lying if he said he didn't know he'd fucked up. The moment his eyes had connected with John's when he'd leaned on the horn outside the roadhouse last week had brought home the enormity of what he'd done. What he'd deliberately set out to do, full well knowing John was the sheriff of the place he'd deliberately broken into. Beyond Isaac he had no excuse. He'd do anything for Isaac.

And the thing is, when Saturday rolls around, he won't be able to tell John any different. He can't, he _won't_ lie to John. He knew that they'd survive. He hoped they'd survive. That they'd had sex, the most dirty, filthy, raunchy mind-blowing sex Peter had ever had in his entire life on Sunday, but since then, they'd not been together. John had said he wanted to wait for their blood tests, well they'd come back clear on both counts. They were A-Okay.

But, graduation was getting in the way. Not to mention Trevor visiting. John had been very quiet on the subject, beyond Sunday when he'd mentioned the surprise and asking Peter to be there too. So here they all were at the Stilinski house, John had put together a whole array of finger food so people could pick when they wanted. He'd made the spare bed, one bed which indicated that Trevor had a partner, but the way he'd caught John smirking every now and then made Peter unsure.

He's in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. Taking a breath, Peter lets it out slowly as he hears the exclamations of Stiles and Derek and then the laughter as they realise they both know Trevor. A large, warm palm grips the nape of his neck making him shiver.

"Put the tray down and go greet your guest." John says as he pulls Peter back gently.

Pouting, Peter leaves the tray half-filled. He hated doing that. "My guest, Trevor belongs to you and Stiles." He protests as he looks back at the tray. Yes he was compulsive about some things, he'd admit that.

"Yes, but Nate belongs to you."

"Nate?" Turning, Peter caught a glimpse of the dark-skinned figure. "Nathanial? How?" He leaps forward without thinking at Nathanial and hugs him tightly.

"I admit I didn't expect to be back so soon, but when John asked me, I couldn't say no." Nate said as he hugged Peter just as tightly.

"How?" Peter asks again as he grins like a loon, he looks back at John and shakes his head.

"John gave me Trevor's card, said to look him up, that he kept his ear to the ground about work if I wanted. And I did and John was there." Nate steps back and holds out his hand to shake John's. Trevor steps forward and he and Peter shake hands. Trevor looks evenly at him and Peter realises that he's looking at John's past, just as Trevor realises he's looking at John's present and potential future.

"Trevor, it's been a while." Peter hadn't seen Trevor since they'd moved back to Beacon Hills though Derek had visited San Francisco several times.

"Peter, it has. John tells me you're seeing each other." Trevor turns his head when Stiles cackles.

"They're something." He laughs as does Derek.

"Yeah, what about you, engaged before you finish high school kiddo, you preggers or something?" Trevor's dry voice silences everyone until Cora's giggle bursts out from the doorway where she'd just arrived. Jackson is standing behind her looking slightly overwhelmed. Isaac and Danny are behind them.

"Trevor!" She bounced forward and into Trevor's open arms before pulling back just as quick. "Meet Isaac, Peter's son." She pulled Isaac forward and he shook Trevor's hand readily, flushing the slightest as Trevor ran his gaze over him.

"Trevor." John spoke with a warning in his voice.

"No fun J." Trevor was pouting, just like Peter knew he was prone to do himself. Oh God, it was fucking sexy, just as Trevor was. Peter had never registered it until now. He was built, taller than everyone, even Isaac and Stiles, broad shouldered and slim hipped, his forearms literally bulged with veins. Peter would bet his last dollar that Trevor still had a six-pack hiding under his leather vest and flannel shirt. His shaggy hair was swinging every which way and his piercings somehow served to emphasize his strong cheekbones and sexy neck. And his tattoos were works of art. Just like John's was. And Derek's. The man was talented. And like John, he looked nothing near his age.

Squirming a little, Peter pushed down his jealousy. Trevor wasn't here to steal John, he was here to be with his godson for his high school graduation. And no, that thought didn't help.

"You rode down here?" Stiles is asking Trevor as Peter tunes back into the conversation. John has started serving with Cora helping him. "Cool, when do you go back?"

"We ride back first thing Saturday, we've got a full day at the shop."

Wait, the shop? We? Peter turned to Nathanial. "You're working with Trevor?" He asked, taking note of the piercings Nathanial had redone.

"More like for Trevor, it's his shop. And yeah, I do Saturday's. Piercing, phones and stuff." Peter nodded as he looked at Nathanial only to see him look at Trevor. Oh shit. Closing his eyes for a second, Peter wished for strength to get through the night.

That warm hand came back to rest on the nape of his neck. "Breathe baby." John whispered in his ear, softly enough no one else heard him and then brushed a kiss on Peter's temple before putting the now-filled platter in to his hands. "Here you are, all done. I'll put out the punch."

The doorbell rings again and Derek answers it to let in Jackson's parents. Peter blinked and watched them take a look at the people already in the room. John had invited them when Isaac had asked if Jackson could come. They'd reciprocated by asking everyone in the room to breakfast, from there they'd go to the graduation, even though it wasn't Jackson who was graduating.

John recognised they were more like Danny's actual parents than his biological ones. They were hosting a cocktail party for Danny on Sunday evening, after the prom. And no one in this room was invited other than Isaac and he only because Danny had insisted and threatened not to show up.

And then Jackson's parents looked at each other and shrugged. That shrug told a story and made him realise the steel he saw beyond Jackson's pretty jock and party boy exterior. He wore it like a shield. Exactly like his parents. But he had substance and depth. Also exactly like his parents.

"Jordan, and this is my wife Vanessa." Peter watched Trevor shake Jordan's hand and then take Vanessa's and kiss the back of her knuckles. It was an easy, comfortable gesture. Nathanial pushed him to the side with a muttered word and then did exactly the same thing making Trevor laugh lightly.

Peter goggled as he watched Nathanial tease Trevor and his laugh turn from a chuckle to a deep belly laugh. "Surprised me too, they just clicked." John is back, switching out Peter's platter for another as conversation drifts around them.

"I can't believe the group you've got here. It's a weird and somehow cohesive mix of people that look to be genuinely getting along." Peter shakes his head and John laughs now.

"I know Jordan through work, I know Vanessa through a shelter, they look like Ken and Barbie, all plastic, no substance but appearances are deceiving. They use it to their advantage and they've taught Jackson to as well. Maybe a little too well sometimes I think they think."

"And did you invite Danny's parents?" Peter is curious.

"Yeah I did, they're standing right there." John said as he pointed to Jordan and Vanessa. Watching them laugh with Danny and Isaac, Peter agreed. He moved around the room, hosting along with John, time passed and the conversations never waned

After a couple of hours, John stood beside Peter and tapped his glass until there was silence in the room. "I'm not much for speeches as most of you know, but for Stiles I'll make an exception. Claudia would kill me if I didn't say anything." He smiled slightly at the light laughter from Jordan, Vanessa and Stiles. Peter was sorry Melissa had had to work. Scott and Allison had arrived and were standing with Cora, Isaac and Danny.

"Stiles, you came out of your mother a wailing, impatient, greedy child. You had bruised flesh and the most indignant squawk I've ever heard. You've given me god alone knows how many grey hairs over the years." John shook his head as everyone laughed and Stiles protested.

"I stand before you all today a proud father of the most beautiful, loving son a man could ever hope for. You are _everything_ your mother and I dreamed you would be. When you walk off that stage tomorrow you'll enter the adult world, standing on your own two feet with your future husband at your side. We hope you do nothing but thrive. Always. To Stiles." John raised his glass as did everyone, the toast of 'to Stiles' echoing around the room. A piercing whistle overrode the applause and Stiles laughed as he turned and hugged Trevor who had whistled.

Turning, Peter sees Jordan and Vanessa have approached them. "John, we need to go, we still have a little left to organise for breakfast. Thank you for having us, it was delightful, we'll see you all in the morning. Your guests out of town guests included." Jordan spoke as Vanessa leaned up and kissed John's cheek. She then surprised Peter by doing the same to him as Jordan shook their hands.

"I'll walk you out." John said. Danny and Jackson come over to say goodbye as well. Danny was staying with Jackson tonight as it was his breakfast in the morning.

Sighing, Peter watches John leave the room. "You okay?" Nathanial asks as he slips in behind Peter and hooks an arm around his neck, leaning in to kiss Peter's temple as John had done earlier in the evening.

"I am, just a little tired I think." Peter is tired, he wants nothing more than to shower and go to bed, his skin is itching which is a sign he's feeling stressed.

"Why don't you go on up to bed?" Nate asked him and Peter flushed as he realised that Nate thought he was sleeping upstairs too.

"Peter has Isaac and Cora to take home tonight." John came over and looked closely at him. "Nate's right though, you don't look so hot. You should go, I'll clean up. I'll walk you out." John herds Cora and Isaac out the door and walks Peter to his Land Rover, at the driver's side door, he cups Peter's face, turning him and tilting his head to lay a soft, intimate kiss on his lips.

Breathing into it, Peter lets John tilt his head to the side so they can move together lazily. Soft licks and glides and slides of their tongues, the kiss goes on, both of them saying hello more than goodbye. The kiss nourishes Peter's soul, lets him know that John is still with him.

Letting go with a sound of discontent, Peter opens his eyes. "Saturday night, you stay with me at my place in my bed and we wake up together with each other's come leaking out of our asses. I need that John."

Nodding, John brushed their lips together one last time before moving back. He watched from the porch as Peter took his children home and then he went inside to his own.

Peter settled into bed after showering and moisturizing his skin with a happy moan. His lips were still tingling from that kiss. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, dreaming of John and what they'd do to each other on Saturday night.


	10. Breakfast AtCh10

Watching Stiles accept his diploma, John felt his eyes well up. Unashamed he let his tears fall, tracking down his cheeks, and dripping off his chin. Peter's hand brushes over his and he clasps it. Trevor on his other side just sighs. "Fuck, he's in the world now." He murmurs. John simply nods.

Breakfast at the Whittemore's had gone well. They were a couple of rows over, being there for Danny. His parent's hadn't shown up at all, not that anyone expected them to.

"God that will be Isaac next year." Peter said softly as he realised.

"You won't lose me when I graduate high school Peter; you're stuck with me for good now." Isaac whispered. That was the truth John thought. Yes, Stiles was no longer a high school student, he was now a part of the adult world, and he was engaged for god's sake. But he was and always would be John's son, he wasn't going anywhere.

Shaking his melancholy mood off, he sat up straight and cheered long and loud when the graduating class was introduced. A long, loud whistle erupted from Trevor and Nate surprised them by following with an even louder whistle. He'd come along to take photo's so they didn't need to bother with it themselves.

The camera, Trevor's snazzy digital whatever reflex was hanging from his neck.

When they push through the throng to get to Stiles, he whoops and hugs his father, literally jumping into his arms, as he hasn't for many years. They both cling to each other a little longer than usual, neither of them wanting that last vestige of Stiles' childhood to disappear behind them forever. "Love you Daddyo."

John snorts and pulls back. "Back at you kiddo." They lean in and hug one more time before John steps back and lets Derek in. He kisses Stiles as well, long and deep, way too thoroughly for a public place but John doesn't care. It's not indecent, simply intimate and if they're happy to share their love in public, he's not going to complain.

Cora hugs Stiles next, then Trevor gets ahold of him and swings him around, exuberant as always. Stiles cackles delightedly. John takes Peter's hand when it slips back into his again and smiles a little through his misty eyes as he imagines feeling Claudia on his other side, she'd be laughing loudly at Trevor's treatment of Stiles and demanding a turn.

And Trevor would oblige. John would be forever thankful that Trevor had not let them drift when they'd broken up and he and Claudia had become a couple. Trevor had balls, and a heart bigger than Jupiter. John just wished he had someone to share the love that overflowed from him with. Someone special.

Clearing his throat, Nate interrupts and starts directing them for photos. He gets every possible combination and acquiesces easier than John thought he would when Stiles insisted on him being a group shot. He then shot off before Nate could go back to the camera where it was propped on the stage and took a couple more of Nate himself before yanking out the memory card and shoving in another one. Trevor shook his head at his godson's audacity and simply told him he wanted a copy of them all. Stiles nodded.

They'd all made separate arrangements for the afternoon and Trevor and Nate had decided this morning to ride back tonight before dinner, which was at the Hale's tonight instead of in the morning as they'd originally planned.

##########

Later on, John drives out to the Hale house with Derek and Stiles, as they want to show it to Trevor who is behind them on his bike. Nate has gone back with Peter, Cora, and Isaac along with Danny.

"Hey, have you two settled on a date for your wedding?" John asked from the back seat of Derek's SUV.

"Early October is as far as we've gotten, depends on the house because we did decide we want to get married out here." Stiles' hand moves to rest on Derek's thigh and John smiles at the gesture.

"Sounds amazing, but as long as you've got plumbing you could just get a marquee, have it outside on the grounds. That could work." He said as he thought of the layout of the property.

"I was thinking that myself, I saw one over at the country club a few weekends ago, it looked really good." Derek said.

"Yeah? Well, we could research that then." They begin to talk a little about the wedding; John interjects occasionally but for the most part leaves them to it.

Sitting on the porch steps some time later, he sighs as Trevor sits beside him. Stiles and Derek are somewhere inside. "He's happy." Trevor says after a while.

"He is they're a hell of a team together." John answers him.

"They are. Derek, he's been through a lot and so has Stiles, they balance each other out."

"Yeah, like we used to." It's been a long time since John has thought of him and Trevor when they'd been together.

"Yeah, we did. I miss it." Trevor's voice has a touch of melancholy in it, mirroring John's own. "You love Peter." Trevor says next.

"I do." John confirms his words though he knows he doesn't need to.

"Think you'll make it with a man this time, or will some other filly come along and twitch her tail at your nose and run him off too?"

John stared at Trevor now in shock. "What the hell?" He says. He'd had no idea Trevor had still harbored any animosity toward Claudia, none at all.

"Fuck's sake John, I'm not stupid, I know it was just as much you as her, but I've known you since I was born, I'm predisposed to take your side even when you're at fault you fucker. But, my question stands. Are you prepared to go all the way this time? You love Peter as you loved Claudia; you're in love with him. Just as you were with Claudia. You and I…it took me way too long to admit that while we love each other – yeah fuck you, still we - neither of us were never _in love_ with each other." Trevor paused to draw breath and John became aware of quiet, even breaths in the doorway behind them. Stiles and Derek.

"Don't fuck around with Peter; don't do that to him like you did to me. We may never have been all fucking in love and shit, but we had something and your head got turned by pussy." Trevor leaned forward and John's eyes widened. "Don't think I don't know you prefer a cock up your ass to your cock in a cunt you fucker. You're my best friend, I've known you since before I was born and I know that you went straight for Claudia as much as you like to pretend otherwise."

Breathing deeply, John ignores the now jagged breaths of his son behind him. Chewing on his lips until they feel raw, John's own breath rasps in his ears, loud and unsteady. "Why now?" He finally manages to gasp out around the cold, shaking sweat drenching his body.

"Because." Trevor paused and looked away before turning back. "Peter loves you, it's in his every breath, every look and touch. What he feels for you is a fuckton more than what we felt for each other. Ergo, if the way you gutted me by fucking around behind my back is any indication, you'd fucking kill him John. And he doesn't deserve that. So…" Trevor stood and pulled out his phone. "Hey Nate, I'm leaving now, gonna head straight back. See you tomorrow yeah?" He listens as John tries to desperately control his breathing and regain some sense of normalcy. Pivoting back to John as he pockets his phone, Trevor grins, a weak, watery thing, nowhere near his usual whole-of-face grin. "Man the fuck up J, take him on and live your fucking life the way you were fucking meant to." He steps forward as John stands and they hug tightly.

Long moments later, the echo of Trevor's bike is fading from the forest and John sits back down on the steps. He can still hear Stiles behind him, the quieter breathing of Derek there, no doubt holding and comforting him. Closing his eyes, he asks Claudia for help in the conversation he's about to have.

Eventually Stiles' breathing evens out and he walks down the steps, sitting beside John, his elbows resting on his knees as Derek sits on the steps behind him, his legs straddling Stiles protectively. "You were unfaithful to Trevor? With mum?" His words are halting and John curses Trevor even as he understands why he'd done what he did.

"We were, not my best moment." John says after clearing his throat a few times. His voice is husky with emotion as he thinks back to those times. That life.

"Uncle Trevor forgave you though." A statement this time, not a question.

"He said something along the lines of 'pussy ain't worth fucking up friendship over, you want her you take her' and then he broke up with me." John swallowed now, wishing fervently for a whiskey to clear the ache in his throat.

"So what…mum was second choice?" Anger is beginning to colour Stiles' words now and John shakes his head, forcing himself to shake off any anger or resentment he had to Trevor for forcing a conversation he never thought he'd have with his son upon him.

"No! No, not at all." Before he can continue, Stiles interrupts.

"So, you went straight for mum then? That's really what happened?" Skepticism replaces the anger now.

"Yeah, remember what I said, what I've always said, Stilinski's mate for life?" A brief nod but no eye contact. "Well, when I met your mother, we connected. On a plane that few people ever connect, it was the most amazing feeling Stiles, like I was complete. I never thought I'd feel that way again in my life, never. But Trevor can see that I do and he doesn't want me to push it away. You have to understand, he wasn't criticizing your mum in any way. He and Claudia ended up getting on great, but it took some time for him to be comfortable with both of us together. We hurt him and I'll never forgive myself for that. I was unfaithful to him, I deserved anything he dished out and today?" Stiles looked at him this time thankfully. "Today was the most blunt he's ever been with me about that time in our lives. _Because_ he wants me to be happy again."

"You have no idea how confusing it was to fall for a woman, your mother. I'd never had any sexual thought in my life about a woman, a female. _Never_. And there I was lusting after this, this wood nymph almost. Trevor gave me up before I even knew really what I was actually feeling, he just…knew. Because he knows me." The last sentence was whispered as John realised why Trevor had been so vicious today. He didn't want John to throw Peter over, because he recognised that John was in love with Peter now. Truly, deeply madly and all that shit in love.

Putting his face in his hands, John closed his eyes and let Trevor's words wash over him. It was his one true regret that he couldn't go back in time and work it out differently. How differently he'd never managed to figure out, but differently somehow. Shaking his head, he starts when warmth sidles in beside him,

"I don't even pretend to know what you were all doing back then. Honestly as much as I'm your son, mum's son, it's none of my business, I wasn't even a blip in mum's belly at the time. But if you love Peter…" Stiles looked evenly at him and John looked back, suddenly wondering where this young adult had come from, the wise eyes staring back at him were not those of a teenager. "…if you love Peter Dad, don't fuck it up and don't fuck him over. Or I'll have to hurt you."

Snorting, John slung an arm around Stiles' neck, pulling him in to kiss the top of his messy head. "Yeah yeah. Brat." He said as Stiles laughed. He heard Derek huff a little in amusement behind him. "Sorry you had to hear that Derek, I can't promise not to hurt Peter, but I promise I'll do right by him." Turning, John looks up at the man sitting behind his son. "I hope that will be enough son." He said, deliberately using the word son, so Derek knew he was serious and that he was fully aware of the relationship he and Derek actually had now even though he and Stiles weren't yet married.

"I love Peter, he saved my sanity, still saves my sanity. But he's not an easy person John, not at all. If you love him, truly love him, he's worth that investment. It'll return a million-fold." Derek stands, pulling Stiles up and then reaching for John. "Let's go back, I'm looking forward to dinner."

##########

Peter closes the door behind everyone but John. They were alone. Finally. John was actually going to spend the night in his bed. He'd not done that before, spent the night in Peter's bed. He'd himself had spent the night in John's bed before, but not vice versa. Returning to the lounge area, he sees John standing at the windows, looking out at the city lights.

Switching off the overhead lights and leaving on a couple of lamps, Peter moved up behind him, standing to his side and looking out at the lights as well. "Want to sit outside and talk?" He asked eventually.

"That'd be nice." John says, stepping back so Peter can unlock the door and slide it open. They both settle quietly onto the chairs, Peter propping his feet on another one with a relieved sigh.

He jerked suddenly, when John scooted his chair around and picked up a foot, pulling off his shoe, he began to rub the ball of Peter's foot. Peter groaned loudly in relief. "God, that's amazing, I've been on my feet cooking and what not for days."

"I know, relax, let me do this, then we can talk."

Sliding down in the seat, Peter rested his head on the back of the chair and watched John concentrate on his feet through half-closed lids. When John had moved to his other foot, Peter stirred himself. "Nathaniel and I were never lovers. In prison I mean." He speaks evenly, no particular tone or inflection in his words.

"But you were something. And that's not my issue anyway." John said as he kept massaging Peter's foot.

"Then what is?"

"You, and my station and a particular visit you paid early one morning, without my consent." The words are soft spoken, and yet as clear as a bell. Everything for Peter in that moment stops,

And then his house of cards, so carefully assembled begins to crumble under the weight of grief. The weight of loss. Because surely he had lost John. He'd betrayed him. Peter knew that, had known that going in really. Yes, he and John had discussed hypotheticals, more than once. But even so, what he'd done to John was betray him. The one thing Peter had not anticipated was whose watch he'd done his sly visit to Lahey on.

John's watch. When John had been on duty.

He'd been so fucking stupid. So. Fucking. Stupid. Blind really, to anything but giving Isaac his freedom. And that was something he'd never apologise for. He just hadn't anticipated the cost would be so high.

Withdrawing his foot from John's lap, Peter sat up. "I'm sure you want to be on your way. I'll see you out." He's proud his voice doesn't waver as he stands and moves to the balcony door, leaving his shoes on the floor.

"What? You wanted me to stay with you tonight, have you changed your mind?" Puzzlement is in John's voice as he stands as well.

"Oh, I think it's for the best don't you Sheriff? A nice, swift clean break and all that? It's not as if we'll never see each other again anyway, what with Derek and Stiles. But I can cope if you can."

"Cope with what? Peter, what the hell are you blathering about?" Irritation and puzzlement now. Peter shook his head, his heart pained, and aching in his chest.

"I'm talking about our breaking up John, what do you think I'm talking about? China patterns?" Letting a little dry sarcasm colour his own voice now, Peter moves through the lounge to the door. He opens it only to have John's hand push over his shoulder, palm slamming the door shut again with a decisive bang.

"The fuck you say!" His words are harsh as he yanks on Peter's arm; pulling him around and pushing him violently back against the door. Both arms cage him in, making sure he can't move away. John's light eyes burning with anger, irritation and still puzzlement. Taking a deep breath, John exhales slowly and then, "Why are you trying to break up with me Peter?"

Peter blinked, then blinked again. "You're breaking up with me." He says, using an overly patient and yet somehow sarcastic tone of voice, as if stating the obvious.

"No Peter, I'm not. I came here to talk to you, to establish fully where we're going with our relationship. You're the one who has decided it's going nowhere. Not me. Why are you trying to break it off?"

"Because I broke into your station. I won't apologise for what I did because it got me Isaac." Peter stares defiantly at John, letting his words settle into the air around them.

John dropped his arms and stepped back. He looked at Peter for several moments and then turned on his heels and moved back into the apartment. Peter was sure he heard him mutter something about obtuseness and asshats on the way. Frowning, he stepped after him, his breath catching in his throat as he watched John move down the hall, pulling his shirt out of his slacks as he went, unbuttoning it and shrugging it off his shoulders.

It fell to the floor, lying there negligently as John toed off his shoes, using the heel-toe method, then stooped and peeled off his socks. Peter stares at his tattoo, scales, bone, and gristle all detailed magnificently on his pale skin.

Turning in Peter's doorway, John stares at him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops on his slacks. Instead of letting it drop though, he raises Peter's eyebrows when he loops it over the back of his neck and lets it dangle. Then, he unbuttons and unzips his slacks, letting them fall off his hips to the floor where he stops out of them.

Raising an eyebrow, John turns to the side, hooking his thumbs in his plain black Calvin Klein boxer briefs as he pushes them over his ass and down to the floor where he steps out of them too. Looking back at Peter over his shoulder, he slides his right hand down over his chest, cupping his cock and balls, stroking back up his cock as a wicked smile stretches his face.

"You just going to stand there like a dumbass Hale?" He questioned as he jerked his hardening cock a couple of times. Peter's own cock was already a hardened rod, aching and leaking he was sure. Bending, he keeps watching John as he pulls off his socks. Then he steps forward as he pulls his long-sleeved t-shirt off, letting it fall to the floor.

Before it lands, his hands are unfastening his jeans and pushing them down with his underwear at the same time, his cock swinging free, the piercing glinting in the low light. John's smile widens as Peter leaves his clothes on the floor and steps forward, pushing John into his room where he shuts and locks the door decisively behind him.

"If you're not breaking up with me then you're staying with me forever, you got that Sheriff? You're mine and I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever. You're stuck with me, Crazy Peter Hale."

"If you want it Peter, put a fucking ring on it." John says bluntly as he pulls Peter to him and takes his mouth in a bruising kiss, their tongues twining as they fight each other for domination. Tonight will be a fight to top, not to degrade the one who will bottom, but because they're by nature dominant individuals who simply need the release at times. The release of battling for their prize, their man, their _mate_.

Peter pushes just as John pulls and so they both tumble onto the bed, legs scissoring around each other as first Peter and then John end up on top. Peter's nails rake down John's back before John is underneath Peter again, his fingers bruising skin before he pulls one hand back and lands a loud, stinging slap flat against Peter's ass cheek.

"Fuck!" Peter reared back as his ass tingled after the slap, he could feel his hole begin to pulse in anticipation of being filled. And then he leans down even as John pushes and thrusts making Peter groan as he feels himself maneuvered over on the bed again to be flat on his back. His mouth latches onto John's neck, not caring that he's sucking like a leech on skin John has no hope of hiding a mark on. Peter clings as John strokes down his burned flank even as his other hand scratches down his left side, leaving Peter a stinging, writhing mass of nerves. "More." He finds himself gasping.

"You want more, Hale?" John pulls back, pushing up off the bed before Peter knows where he is, leaving him spread open on his own bed, wanton and needy for the warmth and love only John can provide.

Gasping, Peter dragged a hand down his chest, hooking a finger through his cock ring, he pulls on it, making himself moan in pleasure. He looks up at John slyly. "I want everything." His eyes wander down John's body, highlighted by the single bedside light he'd left on earlier. He stops and they widen as he sees something shiny at the base of John's cock, glinting in the low light of the room. "Well, well, what do you have there?" He questions breathlessly as he snaps himself upright, arms reaching greedily for John's flesh.

Stepping back, John danced out of Peter's way. "What's what?" He asked innocently.

Narrowing his eyes, Peter looks into John's own merry ones. "What. The. Fuck. Is that on your pubic bone?" Huffing as John tries to look innocently puzzled now, Peter gets with the program. Ignoring his weeping cock, he pushes back on the bed, pulling his legs up, he crosses them as well as his arms and raises an eyebrow in what really should be a patented move. "Can I see?" It costs him to ask and not demand, his own body is vibrating with the need to push John to the ground and spread him open just to see what he thinks is at the base of John's cock.

"See what? This?" John steps forward, not quite in touching distance, but close enough that Peter can see the jeweled piercing on his pubic bone. "Trevor and Nate did it for me yesterday." He says quietly.

"Are they emeralds?" Peter asked cautiously as he leaned forward, being careful not to overbalance or put out his hands to touch. He obviously hadn't been given permission to do that. Yet.

"Your birthstone. Trevor made it for me." John says quietly as he comes within touching distance now. Pushing down his hard cock so Peter can fully see the small shaved section of his pubic hair where the pubic bone piercing had been placed. Right at the base of his cock, a bar as wide as John's cock when it is erect is sitting proudly there, the skin reddened and a bit swollen around it.

"It's beautiful, thank you John." Peter says as he looks up at John.

"I wanted to have something that I think of as yours on me and in me all the time." John said now, his fair skin flushing beautifully down his body to his reddened and wet cock.

Peter closed his eyes, grief threatening to take him under, so far and so deep he never finds his way out again. "Why?" He looks up, his eyes wet though no tears spill over. "Why aren't you breaking up with me?"

John steps forward, his hands reaching for Peter, cupping his face, thumbs sliding across his cheekbones tenderly even as he lets the belt he'd taken from around his neck slide heedlessly to the floor. "Because I love you Peter, from here to the sun and back, I love you. Only you." Leaning down, John kisses him tenderly now, letting his love shine through his actions.

Their previous need to push and pull each other into who would top disintegrates under the weight of John's words. He continues to speak. "I know what you did, I saw and heard everything. I spoke to Nate before you met him at the roadhouse, I followed him there, he knew I was there. I know you may not have been lovers traditionally in prison, but I fucking damn well know you were sexually intimate with each other. I'm okay with that because it's me you're with now, in every way Peter. I'll take every single part of you and treasure it all." John says, whispering the words into Peter's ear as he licks the shell of it before licking and sucking sensuously down Peter's strong, corded neck, to bite at his shoulder.

"Even my broken bits?" Peter asks him breathlessly as he arches his neck and shivers, giving John more access.

"Especially your broken bits Peter. Especially." John murmurs as he sinks his teeth in and bites on Peter's carotid, sucking violently to bruise and mark his skin on the side opposite to his burns. When Peter moans brokenly, John mouths his way across the front of Peter's neck, sucking briefly on his Adam's apple before he licks up the burned skin and flicks his tongue over the remaining bit of Peter's earlobe. "I need you to come out with me Peter, I need to introduce you to someone." He pulls back, leaving Peter staring at him breathlessly.

"Now?" Peter gasps as he tries to catch his breath. He was so turned on he felt if John breathed on him he'd come apart.

"Now, it's important, then you can bring me back here and fuck me any and every way you want me." John says as he moves to Peter's dresser. "Can I borrow some sweats?" He asked as he grabs out a pair and tosses them to Peter.

"It's not a formal occasion then I take it?" Peter asked waspishly as he yanked the sweats out of the air before they landed on his head.

"Nope, no standing on ceremony." John stepped into another pair of Peter's sweats and went to his wardrobe, grabbing out a pair of flip-flops.

Seething, Peter pulls on his sweats, his hard on wilting under the confusion of John's mercurial mood swings. "Fine, but I'm driving." He mutters as he grabs up his phone and yanks on the t-shirt John had dropped on the bed. He sweeps out of the room very nearly spitting in his anger, swiping up his wallet and keys at the table near the door.

Raising an eyebrow at Peter's snappishness, John merely opens the door and holds it for Peter to sweep through. Down in the basement car park, Peter beeps his SUV open and John climbs in the passenger side, shutting the door behind him and buckling up as Peter does the same.

On the street, he follows John's directions, silent except for his irritated breathing. Eventually as they leave the inner city behind he breaks. "Where the fuck are we going, who are you introducing me to at this time of night?"

"We're nearly there, take a left." John ignores him and Peter's temper beings to climb. He follows John's instructions and pulls over, blind to the landscape around him. It's only when he follows John out of the car and up to a small gate that he realises where they are.

The cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, Peter follows behind John as he moves in between the graves with confidence, even at nighttime. His small penlight attached to his keychain all the light he needs. When they stop, Peter closes his eyes before he opens them. John is looking at him with gleaming eyes, salt trails glistening like diamonds in the night as tears fall silently.

"Peter, this is Claudia." Turning to the grave, John sits on the side of the marble and touches his fingers to his lips before laying them on the picture of Claudia encased behind glass. "Claud's I've brought him to meet you. Don't freak him out yeah?" Peter notices John has used a habit of Stiles' ending his sentence with a questioning yeah.

Standing again, John steps back to stand beside Peter at the foot of the grave, taking his hand to hold firmly. "Claudia has wanted to meet you ever since I mentioned you a couple of days after we met." He says conversationally making Peter freak, but just a little. It wasn't like he didn't speak to his sister sometimes after all.

"Um," clearing his throat, Peter tried again. "It's nice to meet you Claudia, I admire your taste." A raspy chuckle came from his side as John sniffed and laughed a little at the compliment. "And I congratulate you on your son, he is an exceptional man, his graduation was amazing, I had the pleasure of attending, I'm sure both Stiles and John felt you were with them yesterday. I hope you enjoyed the ceremony." Once he warmed up, Peter didn't feel uncomfortable at all. "We had an amazing dinner that night, it made me dread my Isaac's graduation next year. I will need John to be very patient with me then, I'm sure I'll be a mess when he graduates. Your John kept it together very very well. Trevor came to the ceremony." Peter stopped suddenly hoping that was okay to mention. He didn't know the ground rules here.

"He did, he tossed Stiles around like usual, I could only laugh knowing that you'd have insisted on a spin as well." John laughed lightly, his other hand wiping his tears away now.

"Yes indeed. They're off at prom now, spending the night with another one who graduated at a small party. They haven't set a date for the wedding yet, he and Derek. I hope they do it soon, even a small one takes organization." Peter lets his slight irritation at the lollylagging of his nephew and his fiancée in setting a date making John chuckle again. "Oh you can laugh Sheriff," he nudges a shoulder against John in a mock-irritated fashion, "You won't be the one running around like a blue-assed fly organising stuff will you now?" He asked as he shook his head in exasperation.

"Well, how about you tell me what you need me to do and I'll give you a hand when they pull their fingers out and finally set a date?" John turned to him as he asked the question and Peter turned to face John as well.

"I won't say no to that. When it's our turn can we just elope to Las Vegas?" He asked. And then his stomach dropped in realisation. He'd just talked about marrying John at his dead wife's grave.

"Are you formally asking me to marry you Peter?" John raised an eyebrow at him, not disappointed or angry in anyway at the location of Peter's half-assed proposal.

"Is your answer yes?"

"I did tell you to put a ring on it before didn't I?" That finely arched eyebrow raised again, setting Peter's blood to simmering.

"Yes, yes you did. So then…John Stilinski, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband, sometime in the very very very near future?" Peter asked after a long drawn out moment.

"Peter Hale, it would be my absolute pleasure. How about next weekend?"

John laughed loudly when Peter goggled at him. "Um, okay?" He knows he sounds like a fool but can't help it. "I thought we'd wait until after Derek and Stiles?" He asked when suddenly a firm two-handed shove came to his shoulder blades making him fall into John, their scant height difference making their chins collide and both of them wince. "What the hell?" Peter froze as he turned around. There was no one there.

"Um, that was probably Claudia, did you feel a shove or something?" Peter turned to John gaping.

"What the hell? John, what the hell?" He can't form anymore words as he watches John shove a hand through his fair hair.

"Well, Stiles and I discovered, me particularly that when I come to visit and I talk to Claud's, she manifests? Maybe? I don't know the exact word, but she can touch us, nothing to see, just shoves and strokes and touches." Shrugging, John stops talking. "I did tell her not to frighten you, but I guess she felt you were up to the task. I think she was saying that we shouldn't wait. And I don't want to wait."

"But, even if we go to Las Vegas, you don't want family to come?" Peter is curious. After all, John only has Stiles.

"I figure Trevor and Nate this time. Then once Stiles and Derek are married, we can have another ceremony here in town, or they can throw a party for us or something. But I need you to be mine Peter, sooner rather than later."

There is no uncertainty in John's eyes, merely love, happiness and determination.

"Okay." Peter smiles as John steps into him and kisses him. He flinches a little and settles when he feels an arm slide around his waist and a body nestle into his side. "Um…" John interrupts.

"Yeah, she's hugging me too."

"Okay then, Claudia, will you come to our wedding?" He asks impulsively. He feels somewhat stupid, but that shove and the hug and the long hair he was feeling against his neck now felt very real, despite the fact that Peter saw nothing.

A fleeting touch on his cheek followed by soft lips pressing there gently make Peter look at John who is crying again and staring over his shoulder. Turning, Peter's own jaw drops again.

She is wavering in the darkness, a pale figure in a t-shirt and jeans, hair wild and hanging in a messy tangle down past her shoulders. _"You've let me go now, I can let you go."_ Claudia's mouth doesn't move but both of them hear the words that she says as she rushes forward into their arms, her grip hard and unrelenting despite her wavering form.

Cupping a hand to each of their cheeks, Peter sees tears fall from her eyes, crystalline in the darkness of the night. _"You'll be good to and for each other."_ She looked at John, letting go of Peter and he stepped back to give him the time. _"Take Stiles, all your family to Las Vegas John. Let him see you marry Peter."_ John nods and they hug each other, Peter swallows as he sees Claudia's form fade away even as she stays in John's arms.

Eventually they're alone together and Peter knows Claudia won't be back in any form. He waits for John patiently, making a vow that he'll be back to visit Claudia and keep her up with the gossip of the Hale-Stilinski household. Or should that be Stilinski-Hale?

Hell if he knew. Taking a deep breath, he watches as John does the same and shakes off his mood. He turns to Peter and steps up to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go back to your place."

"Yes. You are due to put out after all." Peter grins as he answers John, putting his own arm around John's waist.

John's laughter follows in their wake as they leave.

Back in the car, Peter pauses before switching on the ignition. "Hey Sheriff?" He asks coyly, looking at John, waiting for his answer.

"Yeah?"

"Just so you know, I love you too, despite your absolutely woeful taste in pop music. Put a ring on it indeed!" Peter snorts as he starts up his Land Rover.

* * *

><p><em>AN – I did say you would meet Claudia after a fashion remember… _


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